


Glory Lost

by selfmanic



Series: Head Cannon - Clint Barton [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Modification, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfmanic/pseuds/selfmanic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heimdall watches over the Avengers to keep an eye on Prince Thor and his new friends. In doing so he notices that Hawkeye looks like the child his sister, Sif, lost over thirty years ago.</p><p>***While the beginning of this story is benign, the end becomes very dark and graphic, heed the tags. ***<br/>**Please do not redistribute my works to other sites such as goodreads or ebookstree without my express permission**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the new corrected version of a previous work titled, Heimdall.
> 
> • Ullr, Old Norse Ullr, in Norse mythology, the god of snowshoes, hunting, the bow, and the shield; he was a handsome stepson of the thunder god Thor. (Son of Sif, the father is unknown.)  
> • Sjel - soul

#  Ch. 1

 

Heimdall watched the different realms laid out before him, letting the random images and occasional whispers flow past. Nothing captured his attention until his gaze returned to Midgard and the strange group of mortals who had joined Prince Thor in battle against his brother, Loki. Thor’s Lady Jane worked tirelessly to recreate the Bifrost, her whispered prayers each night more letters to Thor than true words meant for Heimdall. He diligently reported the relevant bits to his Prince when he visited.

His eyes drifted to the other Avengers as he listened, watched as they trained and repaired the damage that had been done to their realm. He was surprised when another Avenger began nightly prayers to Heimdall as well. He relayed information that Shield believed Asgard should be aware of and told of how the work to repair their homes and places of work were progressing. Strangely though, he didn’t speak to send messages to Thor or Odin, he spoke to Heimdall directly. Slowly as time pasted his reports changed and started to contain small snippets of humor or commentary on the world around him at large.

That night he stood and listened to Midgard, waiting on the nightly prayer of its inhabitants. Lady Jane’s was the normal assurances that she would see the Prince soon and an update on her progress in rebuilding the bifrost. The soft voice of the archer made him smile slightly as he made his nightly report.

 

***

 

“Heimdall, Guardian of Asgard, hear my prayer.” Clint murmured from his perch high above the city.

The city lights lay spread out below him like a reflection of the stars he couldn’t see. It felt right to speak to a God with such a sight spread out below him. It had felt strange to speak to someone without knowing if they were able to hear at first but it hurt no one to try and make sure that Thor was aware of what was happening on earth.

            He first approached Coulson with the idea, shocking the older man who was still in hospital recovering. It made tactical sense, keep your enemies close. If they supplied information to Asgard then eventually they would be willing to share information when it was needed. He honestly felt no love for the Asgardians even if they were Shield’s allies. He’d been used up and tossed away like a rag by Loki only to be ignored by Thor who was too busy dealing with his brother to see the broken man his brother had maimed.

Coulson shared his observations on Thor and what research they managed to sift from legend that had a greater chance of being true. The Asgardians seemed to be geared to see others as below them. They lived for thousands of years if not killed in battle yet were still a warrior culture. Most of the people seemed to reject science and magic as beneath them yet their leader, Odin, often resorted to magic and enchantments if brute force was not successful. It was a maddening dichotomy.

            Heimdall seemed to be both scout and gatekeeper for Asgard. He watched and reported on their enemies and friends. He saw the threats headed toward their realm and sent this information to the King and his court. Yet, he was also the one who controlled the door to the other realms. While he was bound to the King by vows and loyalty, only Odin and Heimdall were strong enough to control the bifrost. With Odin once again asleep he was the one who controlled entry into the realm.

 

***

 

Heimdall came to look forward to these daily prayers as a small distraction from his duties, few called to him anymore since his name had been lost to the centuries. He kept his sharp eyes watching this Hawk Eyed One on and off during his duties. His gaze seemed to be pulled back to the man by some inner fire glittering at the edge of his vision.

“It’s rare for you to call for me, brother.” Sif said moving to stand beside Heimdall, “What can I do to help?”

“I do not want to cause you undo pain but I must ask you of a time you’ve long tried to forget.” He said hating to see the cloud that passed over her face as she realized what he wanted to ask.

“Will answering help the nation?” She asked arms made strong from sword play wrapping around her waist.

“I believe so, yes. Though it might cause pain as well, even my eyes cannot see the future.” He said watching his sister carefully.

“Then ask what you must, brother. I will answer.” She said pulling herself up to watch him back with determined eyes.

“More than thirty years ago by Midgardian reckoning you were captured during battle. You were rescued but kept in confinement by Lady Frigga until your recovery.”

“I was captured and kept in confinement, brother. You know this well.”

“The child you bore, was it abandoned or returned to its father’s people?”

“Neither, I planned to raise it but someone stole the babe only days after its birth. They were never found. It is not a secret, brother.”

“Not a secret, sister, but few remember the details. Did the babe have any marks to recognize him?”

“No, he was born blonde but that can change as can the grey eyes he bore.”

“And if I said a blonde haired man with grey eyes burns with an inner fire on Midgard? Would you wish me to investigate this possibility?”

“You found Ullr?” she asked her composure finally breaking as she snatched at his arm.

“Possibly, sister, I cannot say for sure. I wish to bring the mortal here for our healers to examine him. Lady Frigga birthed him; she should know the feel of his sjel.”

“Who would retrieve him?” Sif asked releasing her brother and starting to pace.

“He is one of the warriors who fought with Thor against his brother. Would it be against Midgardian customs to invite them to visit their fellow warrior’s home?”

“You don’t think he should be told?” She asked moving to stand next to him.

“Not until he is on Asgardian soil and we may discuss things in private. He was lost to us once, sister, and has been hurt by Loki’s betrayal. I would not have him refuse the visit until we have proof.”

“How was he hurt by Loki?”

“He was one of those controlled by the scepter.” Heimdall said with a frown, “Would it not be a show of faith to ask to heal the injuries done by one of our own?”

“Will you come to the palace to meet with Queen Frigga?”

“I won’t leave my given task. I have asked that she come within the hour.” He said shifting and pulling before them a view of the tower and its inhabitants, he heard Sif gasp softly as Clint came into view sitting on a counter to one side of the kitchen nodding at something Steve said as he worked on a rifle.


	2. Chapter 2

#  Ch. 2

 

Clint watched the gathering chaos below him with a frown. A messenger from Asgard had arrived and disappeared into a meeting with Thor, Steve, Director Fury, and Hill. Underlings ran errands from the large meeting room and back all morning while a steady boom of voices filtered through the sound proofed door.

He knew that Thor was harmless in his own way but even he had his moments of careless arrogance. He couldn’t help but distrust anything that came from Asgard after the careless way he’d been treated by Loki. He’d been nothing but a body to be used up and discarded when it broke with no thought for the cost or consequences.

Natasha walked past through the hall giving him a look through the vent as she entered the meeting room and shut the door firmly behind her. Clint started moving down the vent to the next access panel with a suppressed sigh, she might let him know what’s happening or she might make him wait for the formal announcement. He headed towards the outside range, he’d already done his workout for the day but a few extra hours wouldn’t do any harm.

He breathed a sigh of relief when no one was using the massive obstacle course, not that he could blame them. The weather was brutal, a hard driving rain cutting visibility and gusting winds making even easy shots nearly impossible. It was perfect, he thought was a small grin tightening the strap of his quiver and checking his bow while the starting buzzer counted down.

He could feel eyes on him but ignored it as the buzzer sounded, releasing him to bolt through the pounding rain. He went through the course at top speed only slowing once or twice for a particularly hard shot. Clint leapt, rolled, and slid through the mud and grass, pushing himself hard. The timer meant that he couldn’t slow until he crossed the finish line; he sprinted the last hundred feet keeping his legs moving even as the buzzer sounded.

Jogging under the closest overhang he carefully set his quiver and bow to one side before dragging off his soaked and muddy shirt and protective vest. A flash of white out of the corner of one eye had him grabbing the towel Natasha threw him more out of instinct then conscious thought. He scrubbed down his head and face before turning to her with a grin that quickly died. Two Asgardians in formal mail and capes stood next to Director Fury, Assistant Director Hill, Thor, and Natasha who was watching him with an amused expression she normally reserved for his more spectacular mishaps.

 

“Agent Barton, I’d like you to meet Hermod, messenger of the court of Odin, and his companion, Lirr.” Fury said gesturing to the two mailed men who bowed in turn.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Clint said giving the two a curt nod before turning back to Fury trying to ignore the way the older Asgardian was eying his exposed scars, “Was there something you needed, Sir?”

“Hermod and Lirr will be staying while negotiations are underway for a delegation to visit Asgard. I would like you and Agent Romanov to show them the base and city while they’re here.”

“Yes, Sir.” Clint agreed with a nod trying not to let his exhaustion show, he’d hoped to clean up and sleep for a few hours before the nightmares hit, not spend the rest of his day babysitting foreign diplomats.

“Let me show you the training facilities inside.” Natasha said with a polite smile to their guests as Fury guided everyone else out the door that led back to his building, “You have ten minutes, Barton.”

            Clint gathered up his gear and jogged to the showers ignoring the eyes he felt tracing his scarred back. He cleaned up quickly but eyed his mud covered gear with a groan. It would take hours to clean and he doubted Natasha would let him be absent that long, if she was going to suffer then so was he.

            His hair was wet and he was carrying the gear he needed to clean but he made it to the training rooms in ten minutes. Natasha was explaining some of the equipment when he arrived but the two guests immediately turned to face him when he approached. She eyed his hair with a faint look of disgust but stayed silent, she’d been ragging him for weeks to get it cut but something kept stopping him, he liked it longer for some reason.

“You are the one called, Eye of Hawk?” Hermod asked, eyes tracking over the gear he was carrying.

“Yes, Hawkeye but generally people call me Agent Barton or Clint.”

“The Shield Maiden, Black Widow, has been explaining your training exercises, would you mind demonstrating a bout for us?”

“Surely asgardian warriors have practice bouts?” Clint said slowly, not liking how he was being singled out as he set his things to the side.

“Lirr does not believe that a woman as beautiful as the Widow can hold her own in a fight. Would you do me the pleasure of proving him wrong?” he asked with a firm smile, the younger man’s smile offering a feral challenge.

“I’ve seen a few of your women, Hermod.” Clint said fighting back a sigh as he noted the fire burning in Natasha’s eyes, any fight at this point was going to hurt, “Lady Sif would put you on your back for such a statement. Our women are not much different.”

“Are you up for a spar?” She asked giving him the feral grin she got when showing up idiots.

“Might as well.” He muttered, stripping off his jacket.

            The fight was fast and showy. He let Natasha take him down with a few of her fancy leg holds and she let him get in a few of the acrobatic moves he liked. He didn’t like the way she seemed to be showing him off to the watchers but he did step up the fight a bit to make it clear he wasn’t amused. This bout had been her challenge, not his. In general they were well matched but he could tell he wasn’t up to his normal speed as the bout wound on; he was just too worn down. She called the fight when he almost didn’t block the last blow.

            They got water and Clint wiped down and changed into yet another shirt before they continued the tour. He’d hoped to drop his gear off at the tower so he could clean it that night but the Asgardians rode with them since they were staying on Thor’s floor for the two weeks until the delegation left. Tony ordered in a feast for the visitors and Clint forced himself to participate in the boisterous meal.

            After dinner once everyone was engrossed in a movie, Clint went to his room and started sorting out the mud covered arrows, bow, and quiver. His weapon’s harness washed off easy enough but he oiled the parts and pieces to make sure the water hadn’t damaged anything. No matter how waterproof Shield claimed their gear was it always did better if you cleaned it soon after a mission. He’d removed the string from his bow before his shower so he took his time oiling and cleaning each part. Hours later he crawled into bed hoping his aching muscles and utter exhaustion would spare him from the nightmares.

            Four hours later he bolted out of bed, retching into the toilet. The psychs at Shield assured him that his returning memories from his time under the scepter were a good thing. Clint wasn’t so sure.

            The returning memories were broken and fragmented, leaving him with flashes of things half remembered. Tonight had been the small parts that haunted him lately, him groveling for Loki, lapping up the smallest bits of praise while Loki watched him with the absent affection one showed small pets.

_“Does your kind sleep together freely or are there restrictions?” Loki asked absently the first night while they were waiting for progress from the scientist._

_“It depends on the culture.” Clint said with a shrug working with a whetstone to sharpen a notched blade._

_“And you?”_

_“I sleep with men or women.” Clint said honestly, the blue icy fog leaving him wanting to please his new master with any tidbit of information he requested._

_“Do enjoy sleeping with men, having them take you like a female?”_

_“Yes.” Clint said eyes on his work._

_“Leave that for later and find me quarters to rest here.” Loki said gaze flickering over Clint as he stood._

_“Yes, sir.” Clint said heading out to find a room worthy of his master in this ruin._

            The time after that was lost still to him, only splintered moments left; the feel of hands on his hips, a mouth biting at one shoulder hard enough to draw blood. The little he could remember had been all about Loki’s pleasure. He’d been left hard and aching when he was dismissed back to his duties but it wasn’t the only time he’d been called to attend to his master’s needs.

            Clint couldn’t hide the way he twitched away from the other Asgardians the next morning when they all gathered for breakfast or the dark circles under his eyes. It had been over six months since Loki and he was no closer to setting the ordeal behind him then he’d been in the days after the battle. He pulled himself onto a distant countertop and accepted the coffee Natasha handed over.

            Steve and Natasha helped keep their guests entertained by showing them around town once they got them some less conspicuous clothes. Clint found himself forced to tag along for most of these trips as well as participating in the daily training and sparring sessions the men wished. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being weighed and judged by the visitors, making him watch them just as intently in return.

            They treated Thor like the royalty he was which left Tony in stitches and even Natasha fighting back a smile as the Prince tried to convince his guests that the formality wasn’t needed here on Midgard, at least among friends. Only Clint seemed to be exempt from this formality. The two Asgardians questioned him constantly about his work, his past and childhood, even his sexual prowess when they took the men to a bar one night.

            Thor and Hermod were at the bar bringing another round to their table when the conversation turned back yet again to Clint. Natasha had been trying to keep Lirr occupied while Tony and Bruce talked science covering the table with napkins covered in equations. The younger man however seemed determined to needle Clint with question after question.

“Would you not woo such a woman, Hawk?” Lirr asked eyeing one of the waitresses with a leer.

“If she were interested,” Clint said with a shrug sipping at his beer hoping they wouldn’t keep pressing him, he’d tried to not even go that night only to have Lirr insist upon sharing the repast with a fellow warrior like their Hawk.

“Surely she would be a worthy prize?”

“No woman is a prize.” Clint snapped, his temper finally giving way, “You don’t take what isn’t offered on this planet.”

“But surely if she was willing?”

“I don’t enjoy one night stands, fucking a woman and leaving her has never appealed to me.” Clint said flatly, tossing some money on the table and pushing his way through the crowded room to the restroom.

            He wandered the room getting water at the bar and watching a game of darts for a few minutes before he returned reluctantly to their guests. Natasha was glaring at him for abandoning her to the conversation but he had no sympathy, he wanted to be in his rooms exercising to try and get some sleep. He’d already tried alcohol once and sleep aids just locked him into a night full of nightmares.

“Lirr tells me you are a romantic when it comes to the bedroom, Hawk.” Hermod said when he returned to his seat making Clint fight a frown, his body going tense.

“Do you mind if we change the subject? I’d rather not discuss my sex life with strangers.” Clint said harshly pushing the offered drink in front of him away, he wasn’t accepting anything from these people if they kept being assholes, not even free beer.

“Of course,” Natasha said flashing him a worried look, “What of you two, are you married?”

“Lirr is still seeking his wife while I am partnered.” Hogun said with an easy grin.

“Partnered, not married?”

“My Cael has no wish to wed.” Hermod said with a smile, “We are both still fit and if we still wish it once we are older than one day we may wed but for now we are content.”

“Perhaps you will meet him during the visit.” Lirr said with a nod, finally backing off and drinking his beer in silence seeming to realize he’d antagonized the archer.

“Director Fury hasn’t announced yet who will be returning with you to Asgard.” Natasha pointed out sipping at her drink, “Tell us about your home world, some of us may never get the chance to visit.”

“Surely the friends and companions of Prince Thor would be allowed to make the journey?” Lirr asked downing the last of his mug.

“They yet may.” Hermod said eyes on Clint, “You would enjoy the hunting on Asgard, Hawk. The beasts make much more of a challenge then those here on Midgard.”

“Depends on the animal, strength of arm isn’t what always wins the battle.” Clint pointed out not able to resist arguing with the man. “Thor’s told us about some of his battles and hunts. What of you two?”

            The rest of the night passed slowly as Thor and the others traded stories of hunts and battles on Asgard. If it weren’t for Loki, Clint might have enjoyed the stories but his mind was still full of too many painful partial memories to not resent the constant reminders. He was relieved when they went back to the tower and he was able to escape to his rooms.

“Do you know why they keep focusing on me?” He asked softly, glancing at where Natasha was waiting for him when he came out of his bathroom toweling off.

“Part of the offer is to repair damages done by Loki during the Battle of New York. They’re offering to heal any soldiers he injured or that he used the scepter on.”

“And I’m the only one still alive besides Selvig that was controlled with the scepter and Selvig’s off his rocker.” Clint said with a groan dropping into bed next to her not bothering to pull on any clothes.

“What’s got you so tense, it can’t just be them?” she asked fluffing a pillow to stuff behind her back unphased by his nudity, they’d shared too many tiny rooms on missions and decontamination showers to be body shy around each other .

“My memories from Loki are starting to come back.” He said slowly glancing up to see her reaction, she knew about being torn apart and having to rebuild yourself.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” She said face neutral as she fiddled with a blade, rolling the handle between her hands.

“The psychs say so but it means every time I look at Lirr or they make some stupid comment I’m getting flashbacks or remembering what he did or said. It’s making me nuts.”

“You’re not sleeping enough either.”

“You know I hate taking meds.” He said burying his head under the pillow.

“Only because you can’t protect yourself while you’re drugged,” she said with a huff snatching the pillow away from him, “Take one tonight, I’ll stay and keep watch.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Nat.” He said glancing up and noting the tired lines on her face, it had been a long year for everyone on the team.

“I’m not offering every night,” She said with a snort pulling herself out of the bed and moving to the living room for a book, “but if you need me once a week or so I can keep watch while you sleep. You’ve done the same for me before.”

“Thanks.” He said with a sigh, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his face glancing around at his messy room.

He needed to start taking better care of himself but all his energy seemed to go into just making it through the day. He knew everyone was getting tired of picking up after his messes when his day fell apart and it took all his will power to simply act normal and not fall apart at the smallest thing. Too many times he was ignoring the team while quietly fighting off a panic attack or resurging memories that were threatening to swamp him.  

“Go take your pills.” She reminded him taking a seat at the headboard and turning all the lights except the side table lamp so she could read.

“Yes, mom.” He grumbled pulling on some sleep pants and taking two tablets with a glass of water.

Clint slept hard until two in the morning or so. Natasha handed him the second dose without comment before going back to the book she was reading on her phone. The next time he woke she was gone and he stumbled through his morning routine as he forced himself out of the drugged fog but he had to admit he felt better.

They sparred together before breakfast and it felt good to know he was making her work for it. He managed to avoid their guests until lunch by spending a few hours in the range working through several of his bows to keep in practice. Fury was holding a meeting that afternoon to announce who was going but Clint had already started packing his favorite weapons, if they wanted the ones Loki had abused then he was guaranteed to be forced to go.


	3. Chapter 3

#  Ch. 3

 

            Clint eyed his bags with a sigh, he knew someone was going to point out how much he was lugging with him to Asgard but most of it was weapons. He’d packed like he was planning on storming a base single handedly but he couldn’t make himself leave it behind. He felt a little better when he lugged everything onto the landing pad to see Natasha just as weighed down. They shared a feral grin; between the two of them they could storm the castle if it came to that.

“Two quivers?” She asked softly knowing one bag was full of his trick arrows.

“Just feeling paranoid,” Clint said, voice low, “if nothing happens we can show off to the Asgardians.”

“And if it does we have enough C4 and ammunition to take over the palace or lay seize to a town.” She replied, hefting her own bag with a grin.  

“Jesus, you two planning to move, what exactly did you guys pack?” Tony asked wandering over; he and Bruce were staying behind in case the team needed to be called out.

“Thor’s been regaling us with tales of the training grounds. We just intend to try them out.” Natasha said with a sniff as the rest of the team gathered.

“Are we ready, friends?” Thor asked as he and the other Asgardians came forward looking regal in their capes and chainmail.

“As ready as we’re ever going to be,” Clint muttered helping Natasha with a few bags as Steve jogged up.

“Heimdall, we are ready!” Thor called out raising his hammer, before Clint could take a breath they were grabbed up into a vortex of light that dropped them into a large circular chamber.

            Clint felt a bit better when he glanced over and Steve was downright green, his head ached and spun from the swirling lights. A large man stood to one side closing the Bifrost behind them, withdrawing a massive sword from whatever powered the Bifrost. He forced himself to straighten smoothly and take an easy fighting stance; even Natasha looked nauseous yet she mirrored his position next to Steve. He wasn’t considering them safe until they were pack on their home soil.

“Thank you for the quick retrieval, Heimdall.” Thor said giving the man a regal nod.

“I thought it would be better.” Heimdall said, his voice a quiet yet powerful rumble, “Some do not enjoy the transport as we do.”

“You may be right.” Natasha said shifting to help Steve straighten up, “Alright, Clint?”

“Fine,” Clint said with a shrug his dizziness already past, gathering up Steve’s one bag so they could both support the man if needed, “Maybe some fresh air would help?”

            Even Natasha blanched slightly looking down at how the Bifrost left them hovering over the abyss. Clint grinned, eyes snapping from sight to sight as he tried to take everything in, absently noting the best sightlines and places a sniper could hide, not many. A guard waited with several horses and he moved to help Steve onto one, Natasha riding in front since she knew what she was doing at least.

“You ride, archer?” Heimdall asked having followed them out.

“Not in years but they are truly beautiful horses.” Clint said with a small smile, eyes skipping over the muscular lines of each animal.

“You must come visit me again,” Heimdall said glancing over the other man with a piercing look that left Clint feeling exposed, “eyes such as yours would appreciate the view.”

“Thank you, I would like that.” Clint said with a nod trying not to feel paranoid as he moved away, his back to the massive warrior.

            He moved over to where the others were waiting, handing off the bags except for his bow and quiver to a servant loading a cart that would follow. He mounted easily and enjoyed the smooth ride in. Maybe he’d be able to convince Thor to let them ride out one morning for the day, he mused grinning at Natasha when she glanced over.

            They were shown to a wing of rooms where they could change and relax before the formal feast and welcome that night since Steve was still looking rather green. Clint made sure he knew where everyone was before he explored his own suite of rooms. Thor had mentioned earlier that visible weapons wouldn’t be allowed out in the great hall so he spent the hour or so sorting through what he would take since he bow had to be left behind.

            The tension and exhaustion he’d managed to ignore on the ride in weighed him down as they walked to dinner. Loki had broken him and now the Queen wanted to fix the damage her son had caused, did he even need fixing? Could he trust them to touch him now that one of their own had hurt him so badly?

            The speeches were thankfully short. They were welcomed by Queen Frigga and introduced as the heroes who had saved Midgard and helped Prince Thor in his time of need. Clint sat stiffly on the bench sipping at the herbed water and picking at the food Natasha pushed at him once the feasting began. They were left mostly to themselves but Thor’s friends, the warriors three and Lady Sif, sat with them, regaling them with tales of Thor’s deeds and misdeeds.

            Fendral and Volstagg were loud and full of laughter, telling many of the stories themselves. Hogun and Sif sat near Clint and were thankfully quieter. They talked calmly together asking the occasional polite questions in an attempt to get Clint to join the conversation but eventually backed off letting him brood in peace.

“I do not mean to pry, but it appears that Volstagg has become taken with your Black Widow. Would she allow him to court?” Hogun asked, sipping at his goblet.

“Natasha rarely takes lovers but she doesn’t seem bothered by the attention.” Clint said with a shrug, what she did on her own time was her decision.

“So she is not taken?”

“Not at the moment.” Clint said refilling his goblet with water and doing the same for Hogun’s when he accepted the offer with a nod.

“Will you be on the training grounds tomorrow? Thor has spoken of your mastery with weapons.” Sif asked, watching the tired young man before her with a frown.

“That depends on the healers.” Clint muttered, rubbing one ear, “I’m supposed to start sessions with them tomorrow.”

“Well, if you are feeling up to it, I would welcome a bout before the rest gather their courage and whisk you away.” Hogun said with a grin toasting him with his goblet.

“What do you mean?” Clint asked slowly, muscles tensing as he snapped into stillness.

“Everyone has heard you were chosen to lead Loki’s troops on Midgard. They wish to test themselves against his chosen warrior.”

“That’s not an honor I claimed willingly.” Clint snapped, pushing away from the table.

“I did not mean to offend.” Hogun said hastily, moving with Clint as he left the room.

“I’m not offended,” Clint said pausing and scrubbing a hand over his face, “I just don’t want your people to think I can speak of Loki easily. He took my body and used it to kill people I respected. I attacked the organization I work for, my home for over ten years at his command. The man I thought of as a father nearly died in that attack at Loki’s hand. I hate him for that. He broke me and now everyone suddenly wants me to visit Asgard, his home, and be calm about it.”

“You have right to be angry.” He agreed solemnly,

“I don’t want to be angry; I want what he stole from me. Somehow I doubt that’s anything your healers can fix.” Clint said moving away and making his way back to his rooms trying to ignore the glances of the guards he passed.

            Hogun eyed the warrior striding away from him with a frown. He hadn’t meant to upset the archer or force him from his repast. He followed as a distance making sure he made it to his destination but the Hawk took the shortest path to his rooms without bothering to question a guard for directions. He shared a glance with one of guards, few Asgardians could travel the halls of the palace without a guard to guide them.

 

***

           

Clint followed the messenger to the healing halls trying to control his nerves. He’d never liked dealing with doctors or medical stays and he doubted this was going to be much better. He’d been instructed to bathe and change into the thin silken garments they’d left him that morning. Barefoot and weaponless he tried to ignore the way he automatically stalked down the halls, body ready for the smallest challenge.

“Thank you for coming so promptly, Clint Barton. You needn’t look so worried, the healing process is painless and done whilst you sleep.” Queen Frigga said guiding him to a high table and easing him backwards to lie on his back. “Each morning you will be treated and have the rest of the day to recover with your companions. Rest and heal, Eye of the Hawk.”

            Clint slowly came awake to the sound of voices ringing around him. He blinked sleepily in the dim light, glancing around for a long moment before he remembered where he was. Natasha stood to one side frowning as he fought to sit up.

“Move slowly, the healing will have depleted you. You must rest and eat to regain your strength.” One of the healers said, giving him a goblet to drink.

“How do you feel?” Natasha asked moving forward to glance over him with sharp eyes.

“Tired, like I have the flu;” Clint muttered scrubbing a hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.

“That should pass quickly,” Frigga said with a small smile, “Drink, the tonic should help you recover.”

            Clint drained the sweet liquid and forced his sluggish body to move. His head felt like it was full of cotton, like he’d had a high fever that finally broke. He stumbled off the table and didn’t fight when Steve stepped forward to take his weight, he probably needed it. They got him to his room and he crawled into the high bed letting Natasha tuck him in and fuss over him even as sleep pulled him down.

            He woke with a groan, his entire body heavy and urging him to go back to sleep. Natasha man handled him to the edge of the bed with no mercy. Once he was upright she forced him to drink a goblet of water and poked him until he shuffled out of bed. Upright, he blinked in surprise when his head suddenly cleared leaving him wide awake.

“Shit.” He muttered backing away from the bed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked hands hovering over concealed weapons.

“The bed’s spelled to make you sleep. I never sleep that hard without drugs.” He said thickly, fighting the urge to back further away from the massive piece of furniture.

“Are you certain? I didn’t notice anything with mine, it might be the potion they gave you.”

“I was completely unwilling to get up until you made me stand up, Natasha. All I could think about was going back to sleep.”

“Well, there’s an easy way to test it.” She said going to the bed and taking a seat.

            Clint watched in shock as Natasha suddenly relaxed and gave a massive yawn. He snatched her off the bed, slamming the two of them into the wall near the door. Natasha shook herself and looked at him with wide eyes.

“My bed doesn’t do that.”

“Check with Steve and Thor. It might just be mine but we need to be sure.”

“Come to my room and take a shower. I’ll talk to the others.” She said eying the bed with a frown, “Your bed does have more carvings on the headboard, maybe that’s how it’s done.”

“I don’t care how it’s done, I don’t want to be forced to sleep or spelled in any way.”

“Go shower and change, I’ll get the others.” She insisted pushing him towards her rooms.

            Clint came back after his shower and went straight to where his bow sat, snatching up the weapon and taking a seat next to the fire. The others sat on several cushions around the fire watching him settle. Natasha pushed a tray towards him with several goblets of water and a mix of strangely colored fruit.

“It is quite an honor to be allowed the use of an enchanted healing bed, Clinton.” Thor said with a frown, “It ensures a healing rest and pleasant dreams without pain or nightmares.”

“I understand that, Thor, I just wish they’d told me how it worked before freaking me out!” Clint snapped, “I don’t want to be spelled or magic-ed in any way without some kind of warning.”

“Thor, is anything else in our rooms spelled?” Natasha pressed trying to keep things calm.

“Nothing that would force a change in your behavior or mind. Magic is used to heat the bathes and prepare some of the foods and in making some clothes and garments.” Thor said with a frown, “I did not realize it would distress you, Clinton, I can ask to have the bed removed if you wish?”

“No, it’s fine.” Clint said with a bitter laugh, “I just want to know if someone’s about to mess with my head again. Once was more than enough.”

“I apologize, I will speak with my mother and ensure it doesn’t happen again or to any of the others.”

“Thank you, Thor.” Steve said with a sigh, “We’re just not used to how casually magic is used here. Honestly, I thought your people disliked magic from how you’ve spoken of it.”

“Using magic in battle is seen as the deed of a weaker foe but it is used in much of our lives.” Thor said frowning, “I am sorry, my friends, I should have realized it would distress you.”

“Thanks, Thor.” Steve said with a sigh, “Well Clint, would you be up to seeing the training grounds? Thor was on his way to escort us before all this.”

“Yeah, might as well burn some energy or magic bed or not I probably won’t be sleeping tonight.” Clint grumbled, moving to grab up a few more weapons and his quiver.

            The training grounds were massive and there seemed to be a never ending line of Asgardian young men waiting to try their hand against the new comers. Natasha had a great time pounding them into the dirt but Clint kept to the range until she pulled him away to spar and show the Asgardians a real fight. The fight was brutal even for them and by the end of it he was more than ready to head to dinner.

            That set up their pattern for the next few days. Clint went through a healing session each morning before retreating his rooms to rest or to the training grounds to practice. He only used the healing bed when he was utterly exhausted. Most nights were spent pacing or doing sit ups and pushups until he couldn’t move, trying to wear his body out enough to out run the encroaching nightmares.

“You are pushing yourself hard, Hawk.” Hogun said following Clint into the armory when he went to return the sword he had been doing solo practice with.

“A soldier needs to stay in practice.” Clint said gruffly stripping out of the padded training tunic he’d been given and hanging it back up.

“You fight like you’re running from something.” Hogun said, putting up his own gear slowly to one side, “There are other ways to clear the mind if you are willing.”

“Not right now, not for me.” Clint said, catching the heated look the other man gave him, eyes trailing down his body.

“I hope I haven’t offended with the offer but I will leave it standing should you wish to join me one night.” Hogun said racking the last of his gear and backing away to give Clint space.

“Normally I wouldn’t say no to what you’re offering but since Loki,” Clint trailed off closing his eyes as memories flashed before him.

“I understand.” Hogun said with a nod, “I won’t ask again but should you need comfort, a night of holding another isn’t a trial, with or without additional pleasures.”

“Thank you, but I can’t, not right now.”

“I will leave you to your rest; I hope you will join our group for dinner?”

“Yeah, of course;” Clint said with a tired smile.

            He retreated back to his rooms, ignoring the looks that Steve and Natasha gave him. He barely locked the door behind him before he was on the ground gasping for air. Panic attacks were nothing new at this point and he sucked in what air he could while his body shook.


	4. Chapter 4

#  Ch. 4

 

Clint’s dreams were getting worse as he remembered more and more of his time under Loki’s control. It left his temper frayed as he brooded over his actions and how he’d catered to the bastard, vying for his praise and attention. He could barely stand to be around the Asgardian men on the training grounds, his body shying away instinctively whenever one came close to touching him.

            Natasha was helping block some of the ones that wanted to question him about his time with Loki but she couldn’t stop all of them. He’d refused to speak about it but that just made them question the others around him. It got to where he started not eating since most of the questions came while they were sitting down to a meal at the communal tables.

            He forced himself to use the enchanted bed once every three days but the stress was starting to show. The healers had mentioned putting off the next day of treatment since it would be more intense but he refused. He wanted this done as soon as possible, no matter what it took.

“You are certain you wish to continue today? This morning’s treatment will be painful and you must be awake while the foreign magic is removed from your body.”

“Yes, I’m fine and would like to see this finished.” Clint said climbing up on the healing table and stretching out on his back like he’d been doing every morning.

“Very well,” Frigga said with a sigh, gesturing the healers forward to start their work, “While we remove the magic you will be restrained, try to remain still.”

“Alright,” Clint agreed turning to where Natasha was waiting next to the door, “Natasha, can you wait outside for this one?”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Clint said letting himself settle back against the hard table, forcing his muscles to relax.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me then.” She said with a frown, clearly not liking being asked to leave but respecting his wishes.

“You do not wish her to see you in pain?”

“I don’t want her to try and stop the healing just because I’m in pain. If I’m going to be in pain regardless then I want it over and done with as quickly as possible.”

“Very well, I will see that we work as quickly as we can.” Frigga said with a frown.

“Thank you.” He said fighting not to tense as the magical restraints was activated pressing him down into the table.

            The next hour passed in a blur as he fought to lie still and not scream as each sickly blue line of magic was pulled from his body and mind. He gasped and choked, fighting not to pass out as his body burned with an inner fire, his bones baking from within. It felt like acid eating its way out of his body as each piece of magic was removed.

            The worst were the strands pulled from where they had entangled in his heart and mind. He relived the worst of his captivity under Loki as the energy was untangled from his own and teased out into a glowing jewel Frigga held. He could feel tears and snot trailing its way down his face as he shivered and bucked against the restraints.

            Finally it was over and he was gently cleaned and dressed in new clothes before being given several potions. He shivered brokenly with every touch, his skin felt bruised and raw. He blurrily noted that he was placed on a cloth stretcher and carried to his room with Natasha trailing after demanding to know what had happened to him. He was too weak and broken open to resist as he was eased into the enchanted bed and left to rest.

            He had vague memories of being woken and given more potions a few times only to drop back into a deep dreamless sleep. He struggled to pull himself upright, Natasha was asleep in the furs next to the fireplace while Steve was already moving to help. Clint made it to the edge of the bed before his head was spinning too much.

“Alright, slow down, Clint.” Steve said letting him lean against his broad chest as his head reeled.

“Just need the bathroom.” Clint muttered eyeing the long distance from the bed to the door to the bathing rooms.

“Let me help, alright?” Steve said helping Clint ease his way onto his feet but taking most of his weight when his knees refused to hold him.

“Yeah, fuck.” Clint bit out, letting the other man all but carry him to the toilet and back.

“How are you feeling?” Natasha asked offering him a goblet of cold water that shook in his weak hands. She helped him hold the goblet with a frown, disliking seeing her partner so weak.

“Wiped out,” he muttered with a grunt, handing the empty goblet back, “It feels like I got hit by a truck.”

“Did they explain what they were doing? The healers won’t tell us anything.”

“They were removing magic that Loki left in me. Said it was going to hurt, that’s why I asked you to leave.” Clint said easing himself back in the bed, “There was more than they were thinking or something.”

“They said you just needed to rest but you’ve been out for almost two days now.”

“Fucking hurt, like I was being ripped open and having my soul pulled out.” Clint said, his voice slurring as he started to relax back into the soft nest of blankets.

“Rest, Hawk. I’ll keep watch while you heal.” Natasha said tucking him in, “Several of the men we’ve been sparring with have asked after you. I think you have a few admirers among the Asgardians.”

“Hogun said something like that.” Clint muttered, “Think I need to worry about my virtue?”

“Only if you want more than a quick fuck,” She said both of them smirking at the blush Steve was sporting as he moved to take a seat near the fire. “Sleep, Hawk, you can make Steve turn purple in the morning.”

“Okay.” Clint said with a sigh, turning over onto his stomach and letting sleep claim him.


	5. Chapter 5

#  Ch. 5

 

            The next few days were slow and lazy. His healing sessions had been suspended until he recovered leaving him restricted from using the training grounds. Instead he watched from the side lines as Natasha continued to enjoy herself proving just how hard she could fight when pressed. Even Steve had been cajoled into a few bouts and seemed to be enjoying trying to teach the Asgardians boxing.

            He’d noticed several of the ones fighting Natasha eying him with admiring looks now that she’d pointed a few of them out. He’d never had a good eye for people flirting with him. He just could never see why anyone would flirt with him when there were so many better options; hell, he lived with most of them.

He had no intention of starting any relationships on Asgard but he let his eyes wander over a few of the finer specimens on display. He enjoyed watching the bouts and Hogun joined him for a time pointing out flaws in the Asgardians’ techniques or telling tidbits of their history. It made for an enjoyable afternoon and Clint was surprised to find himself smiling more than once at something the quiet fighter mentioned.

            He enjoyed the quiet nature of the Asgardian warrior; he didn’t seem to need the constant chaos the others in the Warriors Three seemed to crave. Hogun spoke slowly and carefully, weighing his words and his audience before starting a story or commenting on the fight they were watching.

Sif joined them on occasion, listening to the few stories that Clint was willing to share. She stayed silent as she watched Clint’s reaction to everything around them. She seemed determined to introduce Clint to small things from Asgard, children’s games, songs, fruits and dishes he’d never tried before.

“Is Sif trying to…court me?” He asked Hogun when she finally left to join the others in a mock battle. “I’ve never been the best with women and don’t want to lead her on.”

“I do not believe so;” Hogun said with a frown, “She was enamored with Thor for a time but has taken no one to her bed in many years now. She was captured and hurt gravely during a battle more than thirty of your years ago; she has not courted since then. It was then that she started dying her hair black, refusing the golden locks she was born with. Many men mourned their loss. I can speak with her if her company is making you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s fine.” Clint said running a hand through his hair to brush his too long bangs back, Natasha had offered to braid it that morning and he was tempted to take her up on it something about Asgard or the healing had it growing faster than normal.

“I believe she simply seeks to know the mortals who have captivated Prince Thor so thoroughly,” he said with a grin, “The same as the rest of us.”

“Captivated? I doubt that, have you spoken to him of his Lady Jane recently?” Clint asked with a teasing grin, any comment about Jane turned into Thor waxing poetic about his chosen woman.

“Lady Jane is a most worthy woman,” Hogun said with a grin, “however, he does speak highly of his warrior companions as well, even of the archer who fought at his side.”

“I doubt there’s much to regale anyone with.” Clint said with a snort.

“So you weren’t the one who knocked Prince Loki from the sky? Allowing the Man of Iron and the beast, Hulk, to bring him low?” Hogun asked raising one eyebrow in mock disbelief.

“Well, yes, but any of the others could have done the same.”

“Heimdall, himself has said that you and your companions are warriors of distinction. He would often share the messages you sent during court.” Hogun said watching how Clint curled in on himself. “You do not like others speaking of your accomplishments, do you?”

“I’m just a guy with a bow trying to stay alive most of the time. I’m not anything special.”

“Somehow I doubt that is the truth.” Hogun said standing, “Indulge me in a bout, archer.”

“Hand to hand?” Clint asked pulling himself up and stretching his arms.

“Swords, you seemed proficient when you were practicing earlier.”

“It’s not a skill I use often with Shield.” Clint said with a shrug following the other man to the armory to gather weapons, one bout wouldn’t be that taxing.

            Hogun pulled out his armor and two swords, one for each hand, so Clint matched him. The training area around them fell silent as they moved into a deserted ring. He saw Natasha wave away her next opponent and move to watch from the sidelines as Clint started warming up.

“He’s outmatched himself; Hogun is one of the best with blades in the entire kingdom.” Clint heard someone muttering to Natasha.

“Then Clint should enjoy the workout.” She said with a grin calling out to Clint, “Don’t go easy on him, Hawkeye!”

            Hogun went through his own stretches and warm up to one side, not pushing Clint to start until he stepped forward on his own time. They faced each other and Hogun saluted him with a blade. Sif moved forward and checked that they were both ready before calling for the bout to begin with a shout.

            Clint knew the Asgardian had him in reach and strength so he would have to use his endurance and speed if he hoped to hold his own. Hogun held to the formal sword forms reminding Clint of Asian styles but Clint had been taught to entertain and survive, formal positions meant little to either. He spun and kicked, lashing out with feet, elbows, the sides of his blades, anything he could use. He ducked, spun, and pushed at Hogun, forcing him to keep moving around the ring as Clint attacked every opening he offered and many he didn’t.

            He lost himself to the fight, only his opponent and the ring of sword on sword mattered. He grinned, a feral bearing of teeth when he drew first blood. His opponent returned the favor soon after and Clint lost himself to the motion, nothing mattered but taking each opening and forcing his foe to keep in motion.

            Clint shuddered with a sudden deep gasp for air when his opponent raised his arms in surrender. He backed off forcing his breathe back into a steady rhythm no matter how his chest burned with the need to gulp air back like he was dying. Hogun bowed and he returned it, moving over to the weapons rack next to Natasha to hang up his gear.

“That was well done.” Thor said with a grin, “I did not realize you were so well versed with the blade, Hawk.”

“There’s not much use for it on Midgard.” Clint said with a shrug, stretching out his arms.

“Where did you learn?”

“In the circus,” Clint said, cutting off the next question as he gathered up his weapons and armor, “Let me clean my gear and we can talk during dinner.”

“Of course, a warrior must care for his weapons before he retires.” Thor said with a booming laugh, “We must celebrate your victory this night, it has been many years since someone has forced Hogun to concede a battle.”

“It was a practice bout, Thor, not a fight between enemies.”

“It is still a bout worthy of celebration; it has been many years since we were so entertained. Few would take on Hogun or the Warriors Three and hold their own so well.”

“Whatever.” Clint said shaking his head as he headed to the armory.

            An hour later both the weapons and Clint were cleaned and Thor came to collect him for dinner. He tried to ignore his growing irritation as the other warriors pestered him about the bout and asked about previous battles he’d fought in. Natasha watched him with a knowing look as she told of some of his more spectacular shots and missions, he’d never been comfortable with praise and would spent the nights after a mission dissecting every shot and blow figuring out where he could improve.

“You mentioned you were taught swordsmanship in the circus.” Sif asked her voice gentle, “Will you tell us more of this time?”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Clint said pushing his plate away, no longer hungry, “My brother and I ran away to the circus when my parent’s died. Eventually I apprenticed to Duquesne, called Swordsman, a master with blades, and Buck Chisholm, called Trick Shot, an archer.”

“They trained you well.”

“It took years of practice.” Clint said with a shrug, trying to ignore the way his arm itched where Trick Shot had cut him every time he missed by more than half an inch.

            Clint changed the subject, asking Hogun about his training and weapons. He let the conversations flow around him as the dinner finally started to wind down. Thor was expounding loudly on a battle the Warriors Three had participated in when he overheard Sif speaking with Natasha.

“He did not have a happy childhood, did he?”

“You mean Clint?”

“Yes, he was not happy to be asked about this circus. I am sorry to have turned his mood for the worse.”

“Clint doesn’t talk of his past much,” Natasha said catching Clint’s eye, “He prefers to keep to the present and the family he’s made in the years since.”

“I’m glad he has found happiness, then.” Sif said with a nod, turning back to Fandral and joining his tale.

            The next few days were full of more sleep and healing. Whatever corruption that Frigga and the healers were trying to rout out of him, the healings left him exhausted like he’d been running a mission from hell, nonstop motion and low rations. He lost weight and spent most of the time outside of the healing halls in bed or curled in the sun fighting to stay awake.

            He’d let Natasha braid his growing hair and the foreign weight against his back left him shifting as the wind teased strands loose. He’d felt off since the last healing yesterday, his balance off and even water leaving him nauseous. Clint knew he looked bad with the way his skin was stretched tight over bone and the dark circles under his eyes but the pitying glances of the passing warriors were making him crazy.

“Do you intend to stare the others into submission?” Hogun asked dropping to a seat next to him.

“I don’t need their pity.” Clint muttered knowing he sounded like a pouting five year old but having no other response.

“Nor do they need your anger, Hawk.” Hogun said with a sigh, “Come spar with me, take your anger out on a worthy target.”

“I would make a poor partner, Hogun.” Clint said with a sigh, “I’d only make a fool of myself.”

“Then come go over those sword patterns again, for someone schooled in them you rarely used the forms in our bout.”

“I know them; I just learned to use them as needed. It’s easier to improvise without forcing yourself into a specific stance all the time.” Clint said pulling himself up with a grunt.

            They made their slow way over to a sparing circle but the crowd that gathered quickly dispersed when they started slowly sliding through the forms, Hogun mirroring Clint. Hogun called a halt when Clint was shaking too hard to hold the stance. He got a boy to put up the practice gear while another got them mugs of water and Clint dropped to a seat on a bench.

            Clint was a sweaty mess while he knew normally he’d have been able to continue such a light practice all day. He drained the water and the boy ran to get another. His head was pounding, as he shakily wiped at his forehead with a sigh.

“Your nose is bleeding.” Hogun said with a frown handing Clint a rag.

“Great.” Clint muttered wiping at the steady flow, pinching his nose and tilting his head back to try and stop the bleeding.

“Come on,” Natasha said walking up and tugging at his elbow, “Let’s go get cleaned up before dinner.”

“Yeah, alright;” Clint said, tossing the rag away and dragging himself to his feet with a wince.

            They made the trek towards his rooms slowly. Hogun followed alongside them looking over the archer with a frown, he didn’t look well at all. Natasha kept a discrete hand on his elbow leading him along as he paced along.

            Clint paused wiping at his face ignoring Natasha’s soft question. The room seemed to sway around him as he wiped at the blood that had started flowing again. He turned to respond only for the ground to rush up to meet him, darkness swallowing him before he could open his mouth to gasp.

            He was rushed to the healing rooms but nothing seemed to help this time. Clint’s temperature soared, leaving the man shivering and delirious. He threw up the potions they tried to use and the healing spells seemed to do little to blunt his fever.

“There is something I would like to try but it will be dangerous for him.” Frigga finally said after the archer had lain lost to the fever for three days. “As he is not able to agree to this treatment, I must ask you to do so.”

“What exactly is the treatment?” Natasha asked, fingering a knife while Steve and Thor watched the slow rise and fall of their friend’s chest, each breath rattling in his throat.

“The golden mead,”

 “Mother, no mortal has ever been given the mead.”

“I am aware of that fact, Thor; however I have nothing else left to try. The mead will heal or kill him.”

“What if we took him home? Surely there’s something less dangerous we can try?” Steve asked.

“At this point I would not dare allow moving him. A trip through the bifrost could kill him as easily as the mead.”

“How does the mead work exactly?” Natasha asked, watching as a cask was brought forward and set on a low table to one side.

“It is what gives all Asgardians their long lives. The golden apples heal and strengthen the body while easing the years that weigh upon us.”

“It makes you younger?”

“To some extent, yes;” Frigga said with a sigh, “It brings you back to the prime of your years. Not everything can be healed by the mead but most ills are healed in moments.”

“You really think this is his only chance?” Natasha pressed moving over to stroke and hand lightly over her partner’s forehead, he didn’t stir.

“Yes.” Frigga said simply watching as Natasha retook her seat.

“Then do what you have to, I won’t let him die if there’s a possible treatment.” She said flatly.

“You are in agreement, Captain?”

“Natasha’s known Clint longer than I have, if she says to try it then I agree.” Steve said his face grim as he watched the failing man before them.

“Very well,” Frigga said gesturing a servant forward as a goblet of the mead was poured.

            Clint was pulled up to sit against Frigga as she slowly fed him the mead a sip at a time. Once the cup was empty he was gently laid back and they settled in to wait. Natasha couldn’t hold back a gasp as a golden light started to pulse gently under his skin, slowly expanding healing the damage it found as it moved. His cheeks, gaunt from days of fever lost their hollow and his skin took on a soft golden tan.

“Good,” Frigga said with a sigh, checking him over with a few gestures, “He is healing quickly; I will leave him to sleep until he wakes but he should be in no danger of relapse now.”

“Will the glow remain?” Steve asked softly, hesitant to interrupt.

“No, once he is recovered the glow will recede. It is merely the mead interacting with his magic, or soul if you wish.”

“Always knew his soul would be beautiful.” Natasha said with a soft laugh moving forward to take his hand and wait for her partner to wake while Thor arranged for Clint to be carried back to his rooms.

 

***

           

Clint woke slowly, shifting under the blankets he seemed to be buried under. At least it wasn’t medical by the smell he thought with a mental snort. He pried open one eye only to slam it closed when the light stabbed in with a groan.

“Are you waking up finally?” Natasha asked poking him in the side from her perch next to him on the edge of the bed.

            He snaked an arm around her waist and buried his head against her side with another groan. She laughed softly at him and ran a hand through his hair. He stretched again and forced his head up, glancing around at the light filled room, still on Asgard then.

“What do you remember?”

“Practicing with Hogun and walking back to my rooms, my nose was bleeding.” Clint mumbled dragging himself to sit against the headboard rubbing at his stinging eyes, the lights were too bright.

“You collapsed and developed a high fever, nothing the healers did worked. We thought you were going to die but Queen Frigga offered you something only Asgardians use to heal. It would either heal or kill you.”

“Guess it worked.” He offered with a grimace.

“Do your eyes hurt?”

“The light’s too damn bright.” He muttered squinting at her.

“Don’t rub, let me check.” She said pulling down his hands and prying open one eye. “We need to get the healers to check your eyes.”

“What?” Clint asked going still under her hands, blinking in the light.

“You’re eyes are different, you have a ring of gold around your iris.”

“Both eyes?”

“Yes.” She said slowly climbing off the bed, “I’ll get a guard to alert Frigga, she can check you over, it might just be something from the mead.”

“When have I ever been that lucky?” Clint muttered pulling himself out of bed and changing into his shield uniform, he wasn’t meeting the Queen half naked even if she had seen him in worse shape at this point.

“How bad is it exactly?” Clint asked Steve when he came in and did a double take.

“Not bad, just different.” Steve said with a grin, shrugging, “You’re probably going to get more Hawkeye jokes or comments about bionic eyes.”

“I got that before,” Clint said with a snort as the door opened to admit the Queen with Thor and Natasha following behind.

“How are you feeling, Hawkeye?” She asked moving forward to check his eyes.

“Like I wasn’t even sick,” He said with a shrug, “The light’s too bright but I’m starting to adjust.”

“I believe the mead has activated a gift of your bloodline. If you are up to it, would you meet with me this afternoon? I would like to research this before I explain more.”

“That would be fine, Ma’am.” Clint said with a glance at the others who echoed his agreement.

 

***

 

“Thank you for joining me this evening.” Frigga said gesturing for everyone to sit as she picked up a wood and metal long bow from a rack to one side.

“You wished to speak to us of something, Mother?” Thor asked taking a goblet from the waiting tray as he took his seat.

“Many of us do not know the full story or have forgotten the exact details as time passed. This bow was crafted for a child lost to us only days after his birth.” Frigga said handing the metal and wood bow like she held something fragile.

“You speak of Sif’s lost child, Ullr.” Thor said slowly, watching as his mother moved to stand before Clint.

“I would have you try to draw it, Clint Barton.” She said handing him the bow with a gentle smile as he hesitantly took it from her.

“Mother,” Thor started only to be stopped with a raised hand.

“Draw the bow, archer.” She said firmly stepping away from where Clint was standing to give him room.

            Clint hefted the weapon, automatically checking it for flaws or wear but could find none. It sat in his hands as if made for them, the wood cool against his palms. He glanced at the others but raised the bow, one hand pulling the string back with ease. The golden glowing arrow that appeared on the string made him jerk the bow down hard, the arrow disappearing when the tension left the string.

“What is the meaning of this, Mother? That weapon was blood bound to the boy, only he would be able to wield it.”

“I recently was approached by Heimdall that he believed the child to be on Midgard. He asked that we invite the man here to be examined and if he was found to be truly a son of Asgard, he would be welcomed with open arms. As you said, only Ullr would be able to draw that bow.” She said approaching Clint and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Welcome home, Clint Barton, son of Sif, nephew of Heimdall, once known as Ullr.”


	6. Chapter 6

 

# Ch. 6

 

            Clint blinked at Frigga in shock, automatically pulling the bow in towards his chest to cradle it from harm. He couldn’t be from Asgard, he was human. He took a step back before he could stop himself, the shock and surprise on every face watching as he fall apart.

“No, I’m human. I had a brother, parents.” Clint said, glancing between the bow and Frigga.

“You were taken in by a human family but you are not of their blood.” Frigga said moving to stand before him, “You bare the golden eyes that males in your line inherit, that alone would mark you as the son of Sif, even if you were not able to draw the bow.”

“Why now?” He managed to choke out, glancing at Natasha in panic, “Why find me now?”

“We did not know where to look.” Frigga said with a sigh, “You were stolen from your crib only days after birth, there were no clues left to track you. Heimdall searched the realms for years with no glimpse of you. It was thought the child was dead. It was only after you stood next to Thor in battle that he noticed the inner fire that burns with in you. The same fire that burns within all who are of Asgard.”

            Clint shoved the bow into her arms and bolted, he had no idea where he was going but he couldn’t stay here. Natasha watched him go, finger itching to draw a weapon on the ones who had forced his retreat. She stepped forward to where Clint had been standing, forcing her way into Frigga’s personal space.

“Clint has had everyone he ever trusted until he joined Shield abandon and harm him. His family used and abused him; his mentors left him for dead. If you hurt him I will burn your kingdom down around you.” Natasha said her voice cold and hard. She turned and jogged after Clint, Steve hesitating for a long moment before following after her.

“It is certain, Mother?” Thor asked, watching the others leave with a frown.

“It is; Clint Barton is Ullr, the lost child.” She said with a sigh, “I only hope he can accept us and this family that he never knew. He has been hurt by one of our own and has no true reason to trust us.”

“He has no reason to abandon Asgard.” Thor said with a frown.

“Does he not?” She asked turning to return the bow to its rack, “Loki attacked our realm when he learned of his true heritage. I would not see yet another child of Asgard abandon his heritage or lash out in anger if it can be prevented.”

 

***     

           

Clint found himself on the bifrost before he realized where his feet were taking him. He kind of doubted his supposed Uncle would allow him to go home but maybe he could answer some questions. He paced along the bridge not bothering to rush; Heimdall knew he was approaching if his eyes were as good as everyone said.

“Well met, Archer.” Heimdall rumbled from his place staring out over the cosmos.

“Is it true?” Clint asked dropping to a seat at the man’s feet, too mentally exhausted to care that the man started at the action.

“The Queen has revealed your heritage then.” He asked, watching the man before him with a frown.

“Yeah, I can draw the bow made for Ullr and supposedly I have your eyes.” Clint said glancing up and meeting the golden eyes of the guardian of the Bifrost.

“Such gifts are not something to be cast aside,” Heimdall said with a sigh, setting his sword to one side and taking a seat next to Clint, “Look with your gifts and see the realms spread before you. What do you see, Archer?”

“A path of light,” Clint said slowly, the view seeming to expand the longer he watched, more and more detail filling in.

“And beyond the path?” Heimdall prompted watching the wonder spreading over the younger man’s face.

“Branches,”

“And beyond that?”

“Worlds, stars and…”Clint trailed off as the vision before him grew.

“Worlds, stars and life beyond the reckoning of most mortals;” Heimdall said with a gentle smile, “Our line has always been blessed or cursed as some would have it with sight to see truly what is before us. No illusion will ever trick your eye or magic cloud your gaze.”

“Why didn’t you see me before now?”

“Can you pick out a single life amidst the cosmos? Can you track a single being without knowing exactly where to find it?” Heimdall asked, squeezing the smaller man’s shoulder, “I looked for you every day but you never were in my sight until you sat by Prince Thor after the battle. Even then it took time for me to recognize the fire that burned within you, muted as it was by the corruption of the tesseract.”

“Sif seems too young to be my mother.” Clint said with a wince, turning away from the absorbing view before him.

“She was yet a child herself in our counting when she was captured and defiled by our enemies. She poured her grief of your loss into learning the warrior’s way, earning her place by Prince Thor and the Warriors Three.”

“By your reckoning I would be a child as well.” He pointed out with a snort, he’d never really been allowed to be a child even when he was one.

“Our people age slowly and suffer few injuries.” Heimdall said with a shrug, “Isolated as you were from the natural magics of Asgard, you aged at the rate of a Midgardian. Now that you have tasted the mead you should age as we do.”

“What’s expected of me now? What should I do?”

“We do not expect you to abandon your friends and home, Archer. You would be expected the occasional visit perhaps with Prince Thor if you wish. You are welcome to stay and learn our ways but it need not be now.”

“Why do you keep calling me Archer?”

“I find myself unsure what to call you.” Heimdall said gesturing and pulling up a view of a distant world, “Would I call you your title, Hawkeye? Or your birth name, Ullr? You’ve grown to age as Clint Barton, should I call you so?”

“Clint is fine for now.” He said scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Very well, Clint.”

“Would you let me go home if I asked?”

“I cannot open the bifrost without permission of my Queen or King. I doubt you wish to run from even your companions here, Clint.”

“Yeah, I should probably head back.”

“Stay as long as you wish.” Heimdall said standing and taking up his sword, “As I said before, the view is worthy of one such as you.”

“Thank you, Heimdall.” Clint said with a sigh turning back to gaze at the galaxies laid out before them.

Clint trudged his slow way back to his rooms in silence. Natasha and Steve were waiting for him at the bifrost yet didn’t press him when he waved off their questions. He crawled into the stupid healing bed and hoped it worked for identity crisis’s, ignoring Natasha when she set a knife and his own bow in reach to one side.

            The wooden long bow was waiting on a stand near the door when he woke the next morning. He eyed it with a sigh before cleaning up and following Natasha and Steve to breakfast. They would keep the day normal until he made a decision he knew, they all had been forced to deal with sudden changes too often for them to make it an issue with the others. Of course, no one else seemed to understand that fact.

            The meal was loud with many of the Asgardians lingering over their plates to gossip. It was rumored that Sif’s child had been found and returned to Asgard, they were just waiting on the official announcement and feast of welcome. For all Clint cared they could keep waiting.

            Sif seemed determined to give him the space he needed, watching him from afar as he trained with Natasha. After a full day under her gaze he realized that she was waiting for him to approach her. He went to bed with Natasha that night, curling miserably against her, needing to be held.

“Talk to me, Hawk. How can we fix this?”

“I have no idea.” Clint said with a snort, “Did you hear the chatter at dinner? They expect a child, a barely grown boy, not me.”

“Hogun and the others aren’t treating you any different.”

“Do they know?”

“It’s possible Sif has told them already.”

“I don’t think so, she seems to be waiting on me to do something, talk to her or something.” Clint said with a sigh, rubbing his face against her shoulder, “What the hell do I say? Sorry, you lost me and I had a crap childhood. Your adopted Prince raped me and I want nothing to do with you or your world.”

“Do you want to leave?” she asked going still in his arms as she waited for his decision.

“I don’t want to stay here permanently, Nat. We’re needed on earth.” Clint said with a sigh, feeling her relax against him. They both had been abandoned too often to not brace themselves when it looked like someone might leave.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t take some time to learn about your family.”

“Family’s kind of a bad word for me, Nat. The Barton’s weren’t exactly a good example.”

“It just goes to show that you didn’t even belong to them. They weren’t worthy of you.” She said fiercely, “I thought we agreed to make our own families anyway?”

“How do I include Sif and Heimdall in that? Can you imagine the Christmas dinners?” Clint asked with a snort of laughter, “Do they even celebrate Christmas?”

“I have no idea but we can ask.” She said smoothing a hand down his arm and leaning back so she could look into his eyes, “We can stay for a while until we know how to proceed. Stark can fend without us for a short while.”

“Ten bucks says he burns down his lab by the time we get back.” He said with a tired grin.

“Twenty says he does it twice.” She said with a laugh when he shook her hand on it.

“You know Hogun offered to hold me one night if I wanted it?” He said softly once they settled back down against each other.

“You turned him down?”

“Yeah, but he left the offer open.” Clint mumbled playing with her hair, “Wanted to do more but seemed willing to just cuddle.”

“He’s one of the more tolerable Asgardians. Too many seem to have no brains in their heads.”

“Sounds like how Darcy described Thor at first; it took a while for him to grow out of it. Jane forces him to think about things.”

“Well, they are rather catered to. What do they have to work on but their fighting? Meals and such are provided if they live at the palace; they train all day and challenge each other out of boredom.” She pointed out rubbing at the tense muscles in his shoulders and neck with strong hands.

“And for a Prince women would have been flirting with him no matter how badly he acted. He had nothing to check his behavior until Jane hit him with a van.” Clint added, grinning as he remembered how crazy that mission had been with Coulson.

“How did Hogun get so polite then?”

“He wasn’t raised here. He arrived when he was a teenager, I think.” Clint muttered stretching with a sigh.

“You haven’t talked to Sif much even before this, have you?” she asked when he pulled away.

“No, she’s tried a few times but we never had anything to talk about really.” He said with a shrug stretching out on the big bed with a groan.

“Then just go say hello.” Natasha said hugging him for a moment, “She probably has things she wants to ask you but didn’t want to seem to…”

“Creepy?”

“Perhaps.” She said with a shrug.


	7. Chapter 7

#  Ch. 7

 

                Clint didn’t seek out Sif immediately the next morning, he wanted his head clear before he approached his apparent birth mother who looked like she was ten years younger than he was. He sparred with Natasha and several Asgardians before he could force his feet to stay on the ground, the thought of talking to a family member left him itching to flee no matter his headspace considering the crap the Barton’s had put him through over the years. When even Natasha was sweating and bruised he called it done and trailed everyone to their rooms to clean up.

                If he wore one of his better outfits, well, it wasn’t every day you got to meet your mother for the first time officially. She was still giving him space but he caught up with her after breakfast. Sif dropped onto a bench waving the other warriors away when he approached.

“Can I talk with you for a minute?” Clint asked hesitantly, forcing his feet to stay still and his body not to fidget.

“Of course, have a seat.” She said gesturing to the bench next to her.

“Frigga thinks I might be your son.” He said bluntly trying not to wince at his own tactlessness.

“We believe it might be possible, does this bother you?”

“I haven’t had the best track record with parents, I’m not sure how to even act around you now. Hell, you look younger than me.”

“I would be willing to simply be a friend if you would have me? There is so much of your heritage that you have no knowledge of that I would like to show you.” Sif said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and watching him with eyes that looked much older than her physical age.

“I think I would like that.” He said with a slow nod, relaxing as Sif smiled next to him, “Who made the bow? I didn’t think a long bow was something you could craft before the kid was old enough to draw it?”

“Thor commissioned the bow from the elven woodworkers. It is spelled to adjust to the length needed when first drawn.” She gave a soft laugh, “I am small for an Asgardian and the baby was small for a child of our realm at birth. Thor thought he would offer him a long range weapon in case he was too small to fight at his side when he aged. I believe you have proven him wrong.”

“Did you search for me?” Clint asked hesitantly, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

“We never truly stopped looking. I mourned Ullr’s lose for months before throwing myself into the warrior’s arts. I’d decided during my confinement that I would never allow myself to be harmed that way again.” She said with fierce nod. “Every messenger that went to any realm was instructed to ask after a boy with grey eyes and blonde locks that had gone missing. Heimdall looked in every realm and I looked whenever I traveled but we never caught sight of you.”

“You looked for a child, even now?” Clint asked, “The other night everyone was talking about the child having been found like he’d still be that young.”

“We age slowly,” She said with a sigh, “The youngest you see on the training grounds are several hundred years old by your reckoning.”

“And I aged as a Midgardian, not an Asgardian.”

“Now that you have feasted with this realm and tasted the mead you should age as we do. Even now the years are falling away from you.”

“As long as I don’t revert back to a child.” Clint said with a snort, grinning when Sif laughed.

“No, your adulthood will stay.” She said laughing, “Only the injuries and stressed you suffered will continue to be corrected though most have been eased by the healing you’ve undergone.”

“As long as it leaves my ears alone, I finally got them working right.” Clint said with a huff, leaning back on the bench.

“Ears?” Sif asked, glancing at the side of his head with a frown.

“I damaged my ears as a child and went deaf in an explosion during the first few years I worked for Shield. A few years ago I had a surgery to fix them permanently as long as they don’t get damaged again.”

“I do not think that should be effected, if anything they should be back to your normal use.” Sif said with a frown, “You did not have an easy time on Midgard, did you?”

“I won’t say my childhood was a good one but the years after were better. I like working for Shield and keeping others safe. The Avengers are still new but we worked well together, I hope we continue to do good work in future missions.”

“I’m glad you have found a place where you are needed. That is what drew me to Thor’s side along with the Warrior’s Three, they fight for the protection of our realm and our Prince and I am honored to stand by their side.”

“You tested the bow, but have you truly tried it yet? We could go to the training grounds so you have the room to practice if you like? It’s been years since I worked with a bow but the refresher would not be amiss.”

“When I drew the bow a golden arrow appeared.” Clint said slowly standing when Sif did, “I’m not really comfortable with magic right now.”

“That is only if you draw with no arrow on the string, it means you never have to fear losing a battle because of a lack of arrows. You do not have to use it that way if you wish, otherwise it is a well-crafted but normal long bow.” She said with a frown as they started walking, “I should have realized that you wouldn’t be comfortable with magical weapons after your experiences with Loki, few of the weapons we use are magical but the royal family use them constantly. I forget that you don’t have the same exposure as I after a lifetime beside Thor and Loki in battle.”

“It’s more the fact that I’ve had them used against me.” Clint said awkwardly, “Loki’s scepter was used to enslave me to his will. Many of the people I knew or cared about were hurt in the battle, some at my hand or at Loki’s.”

“The scepter and tesseract are not Asgardian weapons.”

“But they are magical weapons that were used to attack my home, my family and friends. I’m sorry but I have a hard time seeing how using magical weapons at all is a good thing.”

“It is yours to do with as you wish. I would like you to take it with you to Midgard should you need it but if you wish to leave it here in the weapons vault you may.”

“Are all magical weapons kept in the vaults?”

“Unless they are being used by a royal such as with Thor’s hammer.”

“Let me think on it. My regular bows are in the rooms I was staying in, as was Ullr’s bow.” Clint said forcing his feet to move, leading Sif to his suite.

“You do not wish to use the name, Ullr, do you?”

“I’ve been Clint all my life,” Clint said with a shrug and a wry grin “I don’t remember being called Ullr but you can call me that if you like. I’ve had enough nicknames over the years that one more won’t matter.”

“I think I will call you Clint or Hawk if you that is alright,” Sif said returning is grin, “You have earned your titles and I will not take them from you.”

“Is it alright if I call you Sif? I’m not sure I can call you mother yet.”

“You may call me what you wish, I know you are too old for yet another mother in your life but I hope to at least be a friend.”

“Fair enough.” He said with a nod leading the way into his rooms.

                His bows and weapons were where he’d left them. Steve and Natasha were waiting for them when they arrived at the training grounds watching Thor and the others practice. Sif and Clint made their way to the archery lanes, the others leaving them be for now.

                Sif actually had a keen eyes and did well with the bow even if she rarely used it in battles. It was easier to fight with sword and shield in close combat and that was what she generally saw over the years beside the Warrior’s Three and the Princes. They practiced for a few hours before joining the others for lunch.

                Frigga wanted to announce Ullr’s recover in two days and Clint agreed. He wasn’t sure they’d be able to stay much longer anyway. Time was running faster on Asgard right now but they couldn’t be gone for months, eventually they would have to head back to earth.


	8. Chapter 8

 

#  Ch. 8

 

They spent the morning training and retired with the warriors to hear tales of their deeds in battle after a late lunch. Clint retreated to a corner trying to wrap his head around the fact that it was his mother beating back monsters and standing at the Princes sides in most of the tales. What would she think of the similar tales of her son’s deeds at Shield and before? Would she still want to know him if she knew of the things he’d done under Loki’s thrall?

“Are you thinking important thoughts or may I interrupt you?” Hogun asked moving forward carrying a tray of sliced fruit and cheeses with two goblets of mead.

“No, nothing important.” Clint said waving the warrior to a seat next to him.

“Somehow I doubt that.” Hogun said with a grin taking his seat and handing Clint a goblet, “Have you decided to court Lady Sif? Your eyes haven’t left her nearly the entire day.”

“Everyone will find out tomorrow at the banquet so it won’t hurt to tell you early.” Clint said with a sigh but Hogun beat him to the reveal.

“You’re Ullr? Somehow you’re the lost babe of Lady Sif.” The man said sputtering in shock, “That’s impossible”

“Yeah, that was my reaction.” Clint said with a bitter laugh, “Apparently I grew up by the standards of Midgard, not Asgard. Now that I’ve visited I should age slower.”

“I had wondered if the healings were meant to make you younger, you do look to be at your prime now like many Asgardian youths.”

“Are you giving up wooing me now that I’m too young?” Clint teased watching the candle light play over his companion.

“You were not too young earlier even when I thought you of Midgard, I wouldn’t withdraw my suite for something so trivial.” He said picking up a goblet and toasting Clint with heat in his eyes, “What else bothers you? You have been brooding in the darkness while your friends enjoy themselves.”

“They’ve all earned a bit of enjoyment.” Clint said with a snort, “I’ve never been one for one night stands and while I am tempted by your offer, I don’t want to have you once and never see you again. We have to return home soon.”

“You are thinking as a Midgardian.” Hogun said giving him a fond look, “Being long lived means there are always other chances, more time to hope and wait for another. You will return eventually or the Three will visit Midgard and I will see you then. Perhaps you will decide to live among us for a time to study our ways, you kingdom surely needs an ambassador among us?”

“An ambassador? Me? I doubt that.” Clint said with a laugh, “They would want someone with an education, someone who knows the laws that would govern both races.”

“Could you not learn them? One thing an Asgardian always has is time, Hawk. Think on it.”

                Clint shook his head and settled back watching the others as Hogun moved back into the circle of boisterous fighters. How could he be an ambassador when he knew nothing about the Asgardians? He was a middle school dropout who was good with a bow, not exactly college material, much less someone deserving the post of ambassador between two alien races.

 

***

 

                The next evening Clint fidgeted next to Sif in the hallway outside the Great Hall waiting on them to be announced. He wore the Asgardian armor he’d been gifted with but it felt heavy and constrictive compared to his normal Kevlar. Sif took his hand and looped her arm around his with a small smile, she looked as nervous as he did.

                At least they were of a height, he thought with a sigh. The natives would never believe that he was Ullr if he’d been taller than his mother at thirty years old. They were expecting a youth to accompany his mother through the door, not a grown man. Sounds suddenly filtered through the door, letting them hear Queen Frigga announce his recovery.

                Sif gripped his arm a bit tighter and they walked through the door out into the great hall. The roar of acknowledgement from the crowd was deafening as he took a knee before the throne, Sif standing beside him. She kept one hand on his shoulder steadying him as the noise slowly died as Queen Frigga approached.

“Clint Barton, once known as Ullr, son of Lady Sif, we welcome you home.” Frigga said with a smile raising another cheer from the crowd, “Many here have met the Agent of Shield known as Hawkeye who fought with our Prince Thor to rout the Chitauri when they attacked his home world. Those of the court have heard the reports he passed along to Heimdall to keep our nation informed of Midgard’s recovery and the efforts to assist in the repair of the Bifrost. Many of you have practiced with him on the training grounds and with his associates. I ask now, any who judge him unworthy, step forward.”

                Clint stiffened, no one had warned him that he would be judged by the population on whether he was worthy of being an Asgardian. The crowd murmured and shifted to themselves but no one stepped forward. Sif squeezed his shoulder in reassurance as Queen Frigga continued.

“Stand, Clint Barton, and accept the welcome of your people.” Frigga said gesturing him forward.

                She kissed him on the forehead sending a chill through him as the heat of her magic shivered over his skin. She had warned him before the announcement that he would receive her blessing, a magical warding, during the welcome so he bore it as the magic washed over him but his body trembled with the need to break away from her hold. He took the offered goblet when she released him and forced down the sweet mead within, proving his Asgardian ancestry by drinking the Golden Mead.

                After that they were seated at the royal table down from Thor and his mother as the feast began. The meal passed in a blur as Clint was bombarded with questions from the Asgardians seated around him. Mostly they were shocked at his aged looks which he’d figured but many couldn’t believe what amounted to a child of Asgard was forced to fight in battle at such a young age. Clint found himself defending humanity and his home over and over again as the Asgardians protested the barbarian nature of his life in their eyes.

“Surely they would not force a child into such a battle?”

“Anyone over eighteen years of age is considered an adult in most of Midgard. I was twenty when I joined Shield and have never regretted it.” Clint said firmly turning back to his plate.

“But surely you wished to learn and grow more before you went to war?”

“Some do, I had been fighting in some way since I was a child.” Clint said with a shrug, eyes on the meat he was shredding, “Shield was my home and I do not regret fighting for their cause.”

“Hawkeye is a highly respected warrior on Midgard. He has fought at my side and proven his worthiness.” Thor said, his voice booming across the table, “I would not have another slander his name in my hearing.”

“Its fine, Thor;” Clint said trying not to sigh, “I’m used to people doubting my accomplishments. I know I don’t look like a warrior. I’m too short, too uneducated, too whatever.”

“Clint,” Natasha said trying to calm him down.

“No, it’s fine. I get it. I’m used to being looked down upon but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t earned my place.” He said harshly catching the eye of the asgardian who looked shocked at his anger.

“We did not mean to offend you or Prince Thor.” His seatmate said hesitantly hoping to defuse the situation with a polite if uneasy smile.

“No one ever does.” Clint said flatly forcing himself to turn away and smile politely at Hogun across the table, “Hogun, you mentioned a sword form yesterday I hadn’t heard of; maybe you could demonstrate it for me tomorrow?”

“I would be glad to.” Hogun agreed as the table quickly found other topics to discuss.

                Clint spent the rest of dinner trying to keep his responses polite. It seemed that even on another world he was being judged by standards he didn’t agree with or understand. He showed Lady Sif to her rooms and let his feet take him where they would; he was too tense to even think about sleeping.

                He’d been leaning against a wall for a while trying to let the view calm him when he heard someone approaching. The wind brought him the light musk he’d learned in the last few weeks that Hogun favored which brought a slight smile to his lips. He was coming to enjoy his time with the quiet fighter more and more.

“Did they send you out to find me?” Clint asked turning to watch the larger man approach on nearly silent feet.

“No,” he said giving Clint a grin as he leaned to one side, face in shadow, “Though I assured your shield maiden that I would keep you company if we crossed paths.”

“And if I asked to be alone?”

“I would leave you be but do you honestly wish me to go?”

“No,” Clint said with a sigh, “I enjoy your company, even when I’m in a bad mood apparently.”

“Have you had your fill of silence and sky or would you like a different kind of quiet?”

“What are you offering?”

“Whiling away the hours until sunrise with me,”

“And if I wished to do so in your bedroom?”

“Do you seek to tease me?” He rumbled moving closer and pressing Clint back against the cool stone.

“Only if it means you take me to bed.” Clint said sighing softly as Hogun pressed a gentle kiss to one corner of his mouth, “I want to forget for a while. Can you make me do that?”

“I would have you remember every moment you are with me, Hawk. I would burn it into your heart and skin so you forget any other lover.” He said voice low as he claimed Clint’s mouth, stealing his breath as hands grasped and tongues slid against each other.

“Make me forget everything but you,” Clint said, voice rough as they broke apart. “Everything but your arms, mouth, and skin;”

“Come.” Hogun said taking Clint’s hand and leading him deeper into the palace. He never saw the shaft of light revealing another’s face in the moonlight as he was pulled into darker corridors away from the revealing light.


	9. Chapter 9

#  Ch. 9

 

                Clint jolted awake with a scream. It felt like the skin and muscle on his arms and back were being flayed away. It went on and on, leaving him retching from the pain, screaming until he had no voice, until he finally passed out only to be woken by the next searing line of pain.

                He woke for small moments only to collapse back into unconsciousness, the pain the only thing that made sense. He finally came back to himself when he realized the searing, burning pain had receded, leaving only a sharp heated ache of torn and healing skin and muscle behind. Someone was moving him around, adjusting his limbs and settling him onto a soft mat that he sank into gratefully only to be jolted out of his daze with a scream as someone thrust into him with no warning, thrusting harshly with no regard for his injuries.

                The rape and torment went on for what seemed like days. He lost track of anything but his torment, his eyes blind in the darkness surrounding him. He didn’t know why he was being punished, whose hands burned against his skin, he lay in a fog of pain and forgetfulness that left him dazed and mute as his body and mind were torn apart.

 

***

               

Loki glanced up as the guard shift changed with a sneer. No one had yet to see past the illusions that coated the small cell. To anyone looking in he sat on the bed absently sipping from a goblet and reading, the room pristine and its contents innocent. No one could see the truth of the blood covered walls, broken furnishings, and the bleeding wreck of a man that he was thrusting into with abandon.

                With every spill of seed he planted his spells deeper into the archer, binding the man to him with blood and pain. The wounds he had wrecked were twisted red scars that he would soon correct once they were free of these walls. He pulled free and carefully dressed himself before conjuring clothes for his slave and instructing him to dress.

                He laughed softly to think of the people searching for the archer high above them. He disappeared the night of his welcome and yet none would ever think to search for him in the cell of his most hated enemy. It had been months since anyone had visited Loki and he used that lack of care to his advantage, gathering his magic and strength to send an illusion of Hogun out to bring the one person he could use, his former follower.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked once the archer stood dazed before him dressed in black chainmail. The man looked at him, eyes slowly focusing as he set a black war bow in his hands, jaw working as he tried to speak but lacked the words.

“I am you Master, I alone command you. You are my warrior, the sword I wield to smite my enemies.” Loki continued, gripping the man’s hair and tipping his face up to meet his eyes. “You will fight by my side as we leave this place and I will take back everything that was denied me. We will bring Asgard to its knees.”

Clint nodded, setting a black arrow on the string and turning to face the unseeing guards. He would fight for this man who’d taken him from the eternity of pain he’d dwelt in, he remembered nothing else. He didn’t see the pleased smirk that slid across the man’s face just before he canceled the illusions.

Loki laughed as he led his slave out the cell, the guards falling silently with arrows through an eye. He took them down the back halls of the dungeons and through the hidden tunnels and shadow mazes that he’d played in as a child. They would gain allies and bring Asgard to ruin but first he needed to sharpen his blade, he thought with a smirk leading the archer through the shadowed paths. They emerged before the forges of the dwarven realm, the workers pausing as the two men stepped from the shadows.

“Loki, of Asgard,” One said with a sneer stepping forward to meet them, “I thought you were being kept in the dungeons of Asgard, no longer a Prince, no longer anything.”

“You owe me a boon and I would claim it.” Loki said with an answering smirk.

“A boon we owe but after that we’ll have no trade with such as you.” The dwarf said spitting onto the steaming ground. “What would you have of us?”

“I require living metal. My weapon is broken and I require it repaired.” He said gesturing to Clint.

“All the realms are speaking of a missing Asgardian who shares the looks of this one. We would be fools to harm one protected by Frigga. She’s not often raised to anger but her wrath is greater than even Odin’s when roused.”

“Look at his soul, dwarf. This one is bound to me; he is no longer of Asgard.”

“This is true but he is Asgardian, binding or not. What do you wish us to do with the living metal, he is not missing a limb.”

“Work his skin and muscle; repair the damage so I might spell him stronger, a worthy blade for my hand.”

“You’ve broken his mind, are we to mend that as well?” the dwarf asked with a glare eyeing the wounded man with a harsh kind of pity, the only pity his kind was capable of, dwarves broken as this man would have been killed out of mercy.

“Leave that to me.” Loki said with a manic grin making the dwarf eye him with a frown, the Asgardian was mad but a boon offered was a boon given, he could not go against dwarven law.

“Aye, once this is done we are even.” He said spitting again to the side ready to be gone with the both of them, “Stoke the forges! We have work this night!”

Clint was brought to a table and bound tightly, Loki catching him with his magic so he could only blink and breath as they worked around him. He could only watch as Loki and the dwarves opened each scar and poured molten metal in, sealing the wounds with magic and searing heat. Loki chanted and cast over each, adding his own spells and magics, binding the archer to him with engraved runes, increasing his strength and stamina, and ensuring his memories did not return.  When it was finally done Loki retreated to rest and Clint was left shivering on the warm stone.

“I pity you, Asgardian. Your master will use you until you are no longer able and then you will be abandoned like the weapon he named you.” The dwarf said, leaning over to tap at the metal crisscrossing his body, “Dwarves have little in the way of healing magics but I’ve worked the metal in you to my best abilities, it will never rust or chip. Scratches and weaknesses earned in battle will heal. It is the best I can do for you. If the Asgardians ask I will tell them Ullr was brought to us by Loki but I cannot tell of the bargain we have struck, such things are bad for business.”

                He was left where he lay, shivering with pain. He clutched the name to himself fiercely, his name was Ullr. It was more than he’d had before. He was Ullr and his master was Loki, together they would fight and Ullr would protect his master and do his bidding. He was his sword to wield.

                Ullr panted as he walked through the streets on the newly conquered town, an arrow at the ready and his sword on his hip. He forced his eyes to skip over the injured laying before him or the women and children dragging their loved ones away. He belonged to Loki, body and soul. When he was ordered to slaughter everyone in a town he was forced to obey, no matter how his chest ached with every blow he struck.

                There seemed to be limits to everything however and he was learning where he could stretch or bend the commands he was given. If he didn’t see the child before him, he didn’t have to strike it down. He could not hand it food but he could drop a loaf he no longer wanted. If he didn’t see the woman dragging away her injured husband he did not have to plunge a sword into her side, she wasn’t there.

                He reached the palace and ignored how the courtiers shied away from him like he was diseased. For all he knew he was cursed, he couldn’t remember one way or the other. Only Loki was left to him, Loki and his demands. The Prince gave him a manic grin and gestured for him to kneel beside the throne, a spot that was quickly becoming his place during these meetings where Loki placed his demands on the people, madness in his eyes.

                The people groveled and did what they had to. They wanted the mad Prince gone from their lands and Ullr agreed with them. The only time the Prince seemed calm was while planning his next attack and watching Ullr slice his way through the waiting armies. He delighted in picking out random soldiers for him to take out with his black bow sending the troops into a panic as more and more were picked off from an impossible distance.

                Loki was shown to an opulent suite of rooms and distracted with pretty serving girls. Ullr gratefully retreated to the bathing rooms to clean himself at the Prince’s command. All too often the man seemed to forget that his weapon needed rest and care as much as his master.

                He ate the small meal placed next to him when he took his place outside his master’s door and ignored the frightened looks of the palace guards and servants. Sleep was as rare a thing as food and he ate quickly, his master rarely went long without demanding his presence. He’d just started to relax into a waking doze when the serving girls left the room en masse, Loki screaming through the door for his archer.

                He stood and waited for the last girl to leave before shutting the door behind him. He’d take the Prince’s ire for whatever slight he believed they had offered him to spare the women their skins. He stood before the pacing man and waited for his notice trying not to flinch as the furniture was destroyed around him by stray spells.

“There you are my Blade.” Loki said finally seeing the black clad man before him and gesturing him to the bed. “I have need of you. Sit.”

                Ullr started stripping without hesitation; he was his master’s to do with what he would. He could have his body to beat or pleasure as he wished if it meant the women were alive at the end of their stay. He lay there and took the beating that came and let the Prince take his pleasure as he would until he succumbed to sleep.

                He crept out of the large bed gathering his armor and gear and redressing. The guard in the hall gasped when he exited the room bloody and covered in still coloring bruises. Ullr took his seat next to the door with a sigh and leaned one shoulder against the stone; he would keep guard over his Prince until they moved on to the next town and its army, even if it meant protecting the Prince from himself at times.


	10. Chapter 10

#  Ch. 10

 

                Over and over again he put his body in front of his Prince to protect the people the man claimed to serve and rule. He could do nothing to control the man’s madness, his rages grew and everyone around him suffered for it. He could do nothing to stop the ordered executions or the punishments he was forced to dole out. He shivered and wept for the people his master forced him to kill each night but he was his blade and answered to his hand alone.

                Tonight his Prince was in a gracious mood letting the dancing girls keep him entertained and sending several into the baths with Ullr to help him bathe. Ullr did his best to ignore the women, scrubbing himself down quickly and pushing their helping hands away. He did let them oil his skin down with rags and style his hair since his master seemed to want it but no one was allowed to touch him but his master.

                He walked back into the room naked carrying his weapons. Settling his gear to one side, he strapping on a single knife so he could defend his master if needed before kneeling at the foot of the bed. Loki was in the midst of pleasuring himself with a dancer so he let his eyes wander over the other women still dancing. One moved to tease him and pressed her breasts against one shoulder before reeling back with a cry as Loki slapped her harshly.

“No one touches my Blade but me, understand?” he demanded of the room, shoving the whimpering girl away.

“No one pleasures my Blade but me, is that not right?” he asked gesturing for Ullr to stand braced against the footboard.

“No one but me can grant him pleasure, is that not right?” He growled as he kicked Ullr’s legs farther apart before thrusting in without any warning.

“Mine and mine alone,” He growled into Ullr’s ear.

Ullr hissed but took the pain as his due; he was there for his master’s use. He was the only thing standing between these woman and death and they knew it, backing away as the Prince used his weapon. Loki made sure to hit his prostate forcing him to harden and then holding him there on the edge with no relief. Loki pulled out as he came, coating his skin with lines of seed and rubbing it in so that he was marked strongly with the scent of sex.

“Dress and guard me while I sleep.” Loki demanded, gesturing the women to follow him to bed.

                Ullr slowly stood, his body aching and his length hard and twitching between his legs. He would get no relief until Loki ordered it. He hand wouldn’t even be able to twitch towards his crotch without his master’s approval. The women watched him dress with pity in their eyes but he had no time for pity, only his duty kept him moving each day. Only his Prince gave him purpose.

                It was late the next night after yet another night with his prince that one of the dancers crept towards him after Loki had been asleep some hours. She leaned forward as if to reach his belt and he shoved her away, it was a death sentence to touch him. He’d been forced to carry out that sentence too many times no matter how his flesh ached with need.

“Let me ease you, sir.” She whispered reaching again even as he drew a knife to warn her away.

“Yes, let her.” Loki purred from the bed grinning with his mad smile that always seemed to leave someone bleeding in his wake.

“You’ve left him wanting each night, sir. Would you let him have some comfort?” She asked hesitating, unsure if she should approach Ullr or Loki, both were dangerous to her right now.

“He takes what pleasure I give him, nothing more.” Loki said with a gleam of teeth, “Come here my blade, let me show you how much I think you deserve.”

                Ullr stood slowly, moving carefully around the woman so she was behind him as he crawled onto the bed, kneeling between his Prince’s legs. Loki smiled at him and tugged him closer, gesturing for the women to help strip off his armor. The woman backed away slipping next to the wall and watching.

“On your back,” Loki said with a smirk promising pain, “let the women pleasure you, my sword. Show me just how well you obey me.”

                Ullr shivered as the women slowly edged forward and started stroking and touching. No one had touched him in his memory except for his master. No one had pleasured him except for his master. He shook as he was kissed and fondled knowing these women would die by morning.

                He arched and writhed on the bed as each woman rode him to their own pleasure, the bite of metal against skin keeping him from his own completion. He was bound to follow Loki’s commands and he had not said Ullr was allowed to come. He was gasping and shaking with need when the last woman moved away, Loki taking their place.

“Are you satisfied, blade? Are women not to your liking?” Loki asked stroking a hand down his sweat slicked skin and gesturing the women back. “Turnover and take your place at the headboard.”

                The first bite of the blade was almost to be expected, Ullr groaned as it slid deeper. He lost count of the wounds, the women’s terror filled whimpers filling his ears. Loki cut and lapped at the blood, playing with each wound like it was a lover’s body. When he was finally mounted it was almost a relief, the steady thrusts at least familiar.

                He was taken over and over again, the blood slicking his body. Loki smeared each spurt of seed over the wounds, grinding his ownership into his flesh. He knew the women still watched, still could draw the Prince’s attention so he thrust back into each jab, gasped and moaned with the play of the knife. He let himself be turned over and the assault started all over again without a flinch because it meant the women lived yet another hour.

“Such a worthy blade,” Loki hummed, cutting one nipple in two and lapping at the resulting well of blood, suckling like at a teat, “so worthy of all pleasures. Do you wish to feel it, Blade? Do you?”

                Ullr writhed, grinding against the other man panting as his body protested the blood loss making his vision blur. The small knife hovered over his stomach already marked with a cross hatching of cuts. Loki fisted and teased the cock laying between them absently as he rocked, thrusting shallowly into his slave.

“You wish it. Let me give it to you.” He grunted pumping his hips faster even as he hand tightened to the point of pain.

“Come for me.” Loki commanded as he slammed the knife deep.

Ullr’s body seized as he was finally allowed release, vision whiting out as Loki continued to rut out his own completion. He floated in a daze as the knife was withdrawn along with his master’s cock leaving him a limp wreck on the blood soaked sheets. He heard Loki calling for a bath to be drawn and the room cleaned, absently adding a request for a healer as he left the room.

Gentle hands lifted and moved him; cleaning his wounds and helping him sit up to drink the healing potions. Loki returned after a time and he was left to more of his master’s indulgent play for a time before the healers were allowed back in. Eventually he was allowed to haul himself to his feet and dress even as the healers pressed him to rest. His place was at his master’s side, if he did not get there soon he would take his pleasure out on whoever was in his line of sight.

After that, word got out that the warrior in black whose black arrows killed from an impossible distance and who slid through a rank of soldiers like a shadow leaving death in his wake was benevolent. He sheltered those he could, the weak and innocent, only killing on direct command of his Prince. He put his own body under the blades and whips to save those around him pain.

He noticed that servants started trying to help him more, leaving him food and healing potions. Small packs were left with his gear so he would not hunger as they traveled. Often those packs were left on the battle field in the hands of starving children whose parent’s he’d killed.

For all his madness, Loki was not a stupid man. He noticed how his weapon was treated. He saw how the courtiers in each place they overran catered to the man in hopes of currying favor. He’d ignored it since his weapon brushed it to the side and seemed to cling to him all the more when his attention turned to someone else he might play with but it was starting to irritate him.

The Black Blade, as his slave was starting to be called was his. His to command, his successes were the successes of Loki. Everything was done by his command, he was but an empty shell driven to serve his master. So why were the masses kneeling to the Blade and not Loki, why did they favor him and not his master?

Fear him? Oh, yes, they feared the Prince and his punishments but only his Blade seemed to be cared for. What did he do for them that Loki did not? It was maddening, and as his irritation grew he threw his weapon into more and more battles pushing him to prove his worth.

He demanded perfection from his slave and he waited for him to buckle. He waited for him to crawl on his knees to his master begging for respite yet it never happened. The Black Blade met every challenge and survived, he brought treasure and battle banners to lay at Loki’s feet and it only made things worse.

                Ullr kneeled beside the throne, his latest battle’s spoils laid out before him and he could see the rage building as the Prince paced before him. He watched the young servers that were gently sent on errands from which they did not return, courtiers who were frozen watching with rictus like smiles as their new ruler seethed. What had taught them such concern in the week he’d been fighting?

“Come, my Black Blade,” Loki said gesturing him forward as he retook the throne, “tell me of your victories.”

Ullr made his slow way to kneel before the throne next to the casket of treasures his Prince had asked him to retrieve. He’d been ordered not to speak, it was one of the first orders he’d ever been given. He’d questioned his master only once before the rune had been added to the metal burrowing through his skin triggered to heat to burn him if he attempted to utter a sound. He kneeled, watching his master, trying not to shake. This was a test he could not win, and his master wanted him to fail.

“What nothing? Speak up, I would hear of your trials.” Loki demand, watching his struggling slave with a growing smile.

“Sire,” Clint chocked out, wincing as the metal started to heat making him hiss.

The room had gone deadly silent as they watched the man before them. The man who had won through obstacles many older warriors would shun. A man, who fought entire armies in the name of his liege, now knelt shivering as his master taunted him. A man who never spoke, many thought he lacked a voice.

“What? Speak up.” Loki said with a grin.

His slave started stammering out a narrative, his voice rough and broken. The watchers gasped and murmured as the Blade’s armor started to smoke, each word seeming to add to his pain. He forced each word out as his clothes burned, falling away to reveal the metal wrapping each limb, speaking even as he collapsed to his hands and knees. His chain mail heated, burning him further as he spoke filling the air with the scent of burning flesh.

Ullr was a shaking mess by the time Loki stood and approached letting him trail off into silence. He walked around him taking in the deep burns and blood pooling beneath the archer. He carefully knelt before him taking his face in his hands wiping away his tears with a tender touch.

“There, now you please me.” He murmured pressing a kiss to the man’s sweat covered brow. “Everyone must fail eventually, even you my Blade. You have been taking too many liberties recently, it had to be corrected.

“Take yourself to the healer’s halls; no one is to help him.” He said going back to his throne and gesturing for the entertainments to resume.

                Ullr swallowed thickly and forced his body to move. The courtiers murmured as he slowly stood, reeling for a long moment before he forced his back straight. Pain was something he knew how to work around, Ullr thought with a grimace. The crowd parted as he made his slow way out the great hall.

                Once he was in the hallways he let himself use the walls to stay upright. It took a ridiculous amount of time, maybe an hour, perhaps two before he shuffled the last few steps into the healing hall. The healers were grabbing him up even as his strength left him, saving him from a painful tumble to the ground. They slowly peeled him out of his ruined armor; removing the mail rings from his skin took much longer.

                It was days before he was able to force his way out of the healing rooms and back to his master’s side. Once again he was given a wide berth as he made his way to his master’s rooms. His master had shown that not even he was exempt from his rages leaving him once more alone in his duty.

                Loki was very pleased with the stretches of pink healing skin and widened scar tissue around the metal forcing Ullr to leave his shirt off whenever he was attending him. He watched his master preen over the pain he’d caused his slave and knew he could not continue such a life. He was too tightly bound to Loki to ever personally betray him but he could allow others to do so.

                He already ignored most of the courtier’s plotting and scheming to over throw their usurper as long as there wasn’t a direct threat to the Prince’s life. He would be forced to stop any attempt that happened while he was near so he allowed himself to put distance from his liege. He knew it was making everyone around him question why he suddenly was no longer always  at his master’s feet but no one else stepped up to fill that role and Ullr made sure he was busy with other tasks should anyone seek him out.

                He continued to protect those he could and still spent his nights in his master’s bed or on guard outside his door but he made himself keep moving at all other times. He let the motion and punishments from his Prince for not being at his place wear at him. He Loki remove the weapons from his rooms and did not replace them, he did it at his master’s order after all.

                They went to battle and Ullr let his eyes stray during the battle searching for something he could not name. He fought beside his master yet did not join him for the celebratory feast instead wandering the halls searching for something he was missing. Something hovered just out of his reach; he was missing something, something he was supposed to have.

                His head ached as he paced the streets, head snapping to the side as a flash of red drew his eye. A red haired woman was walking down the lane just turning the corner. He knew it wasn’t the one he sought but he followed hoping it would trigger some deeper recognition yet nothing came.

                He only had tiny flashes of things he thought might have been from before Loki. A woman with red hair sparing with him a feral grin on her face, a man with a bland mask in a strange suit, small hints of things and happenings he didn’t understand. Weapons his hands seemed to know how to use but that he’d never seen on Asgard, strange machines that flew and projected images, strange languages and words he almost could understand invading his dreams each night.

                A sense of wrongness haunted his every action. He wasn’t meant to do this, he wasn’t mean to be here. He watched Loki and his mind whispered ‘Traitor.” while the metal invading his body burned at even the thought of going against his master. He watched the world he knew descend into madness and violence as each hour passed. He could only hope someone else would be able to step forth to correct the actions he was forced to take, shivering under his master’s gaze.


	11. Chapter 11

#  Ch. 11

 

Ullr bowed and left the throne room with a sense of dread. He doubted the man would even remember he’d sent the archer away on this senseless quest the next morning. Nothing seemed to please the Prince anymore and his demands became more random with each day.

He made his way to the storage rooms to gather a pack for travel. He’d rarely used a horse but he would need one for so distant a journey. He was off to face one of the few creatures believed to be both immortal and sentient, tasked with bringing back its head, a mission none had returned from before.

The steward watched him pack and load a pair of saddlebags wringing his hands. Ullr had nothing to offer him, if he was lucky someone would poison the Prince in his sleep while Ullr hunted. If not he’d return to a kingdom in ruins with a mad ruler waiting to flay the skin from his bones for desertion of duty.

“Please, sire. He will ruin us.” The man begged gripping Ullr’s leg when he mounted.

“Kill him.” Ullr gasped out kicking his horse into a gallop even as the pain seized him.

He doubted such a small kingdom would be able to take a skilled fighter like Loki down even in madness. It would take every ounce of strength he had to even raise his hand against the man, let alone fight him. Unless he could remove the man’s head with a single blow even thinking about such a battle was useless, he’d be a mass of burnt flesh and twisted metal before the sword hit the stone at his feet.

After a few miles he forced himself to pull the animal down to a walk. He hated the idea of destroying such a creature if he could avoid it. Some farmer was probably going to acquire a new mount before this trip was over he thought with a sigh, no long legged messenger’s horse such as this was going to haul a carcass.

He traveled steadily north working his way towards the mountains. He traded the long legged horse for a pack mule at a farm in the foot hills and the last of his coin for a heavier cloak and snowshoes. From then on he was walking, he thought gazing at the looming mountains before him.

He walked each day from sunrise to sunset hoping that he was getting closer to his goal. They moved steadily up and down the mountains, through valleys of yew trees and massive firs that filled his head with splintered memories of trees with multicolored lights. He eyed the yew and wished he had time to search for a sturdy length to craft a new bow yet forced his feet to trudge on.

He’d been gone months now and would take months to return. He could only hope that his master waited for him or that he did not. He would not be welcomed either way. He’d started to find signs that he was on the right path, plants growing out of season and massive clearings made by some animal that rooted ancient trees up like straw yet left spring grass and flowers in its wake.

When he finally found the massive boar he watched it for two days stunned at its primal beauty. Each night he tried to find a way around his command but he had been ordered to return its head, not the entire beast, even if he could manage to capture it. To kill such a creature felt like a sacrilege, like he was plotting to snuff on of the few true lights in the world.

The next morning he readied his bow and set his plans into motion. Hours later the forest was burning around him yet the boar lay bleeding to dead in the rock valley he’d lured it toward and forced over the edge. He approached the twitching beast and quickly cut through an artery putting it out of its misery even as he mutter his apologies over and over again letting the metal burn him for his desecration of such a being.

He skinned what he could reach of the boar, wrapping the heavily tusked head in the hide and rolling the entire thing onto a rough sled he lined with fir branches. He left the rest of the carcass for the wolves that had been trailing him for the last few weeks. They would feast for months if the cold held.

The mule wanted nothing to do with the head but he finally got the sled hooked and the mule moving as snow started to fall. Perhaps it would quench the rest of the fire and help bury the body he thought flexing his aching hands. The cold seemed to settle into the metal in his body leaving him shivering no matter how warmly he dressed.

He traded most of his knives and the mule to a trader for a cart and horse to take him on the southern roads once the snow ran out. Since he left the mountains and started traveling on the main roads he’d felt eyes following his movements but the traffic on the roads had turned heavy as he neared the capital and he couldn’t spot the watchers and frankly didn’t try very hard. His mission was almost over, he no longer cared how his master would take his return or if he would even survive his wrath.

The guards let him on to the grounds but sent off runner to warn the palace of his return. He made sure the horse was looked after and forced out the words to ask after Loki. He was informed he’d left but the Crown Prince wished to speak with him. Ullr nodded and let them lead him to the great hall noting that the throne Loki had favored had been removed.

“Your master has left these halls after killing nearly three hundred of our women, children, and young men. He was most displeased when he discovered you had left on an errand, Black Blade. I take it your mission was successful?” The Prince asked gesturing for Ullr to approach, which he did hesitantly, he’d killed many at Loki’s order in this very room.

                He nodded absently as several courtiers moved forward to stand to one side of the prince. Ullr eyed them wearily but they didn’t move to restrain or harm him so he figured the prince was simply looking for him to leave as soon as possible. He could agree with that plan, his body itched to move.

“You’ve yet again proven your strength and might in battle by bringing down the fabled boar. May we display the head here in our hall?”

                Ullr shrugged, he could care less what was done with the head. He’d been asked to bring it to the hall, he’d done so. Now he had to set out to find his master and accept his punishment if there was one.

“These gentleman and ladies wish to speak with you, Black Blade. They believe you may be a lost friend of theirs.” The prince said gesturing to the waiting warriors, one with red hair catching his eye, she at least looked faintly familiar. Was this the red haired woman from his dreams?

“Long we have searched for you, Hawk. Do you not remember us?” One of the men said with a booming voice his grin fading when Ullr made no move to great them or approach.

“Do you know me?” The red headed woman asked shifting closer to him until instinct had him backing away from a person he judged well versed in fighting skills. “My name is Natasha Romanov, you’ve known me for eight years now not counting our time on Asgard. Your name was Clint Barton. You came here with Prince Thor, Captain America, and I to be healed after a battle on Midgard, what we call Earth.”

“They have explained that you do not speak.” One of the dark haired warriors said his gaze solemn and his voice low, “Will you give us some sign you understand?”

                Ullr nodded and then immediately shook his head, they had to be wrong. He couldn’t be Clint Barton, his name was Ullr. He backed away gripping the strap to his quiver, unsure what he should do. He didn’t believe these warriors but he didn’t want to kill them either.

“Will you stay with us for a short time?” the other woman asked, shifting in place. “We had just discovered you were a son of Asgard when you were stolen from us a second time. I would not lose you yet again, Ullr.”

                He froze at this looking from the dark haired woman to the red with a frown. One claimed he was Clint, another that he was Ullr. Was he not either, had the dwarf named him wrong?

“Do you know that name? Ullr?” She pressed stepping forward before she restrained herself shifting back a half step like she didn’t wish to crowd him. The beaming smile he earned at his slow nod made him relax slightly.

“Will you let us explain?” Natasha asked, tilting her head as she examined him.

                He shifted glancing back at the doors behind him, he needed to start his journey. His master awaited him and he was ordered to be at his side. He felt laid bare under this woman’s gaze and it left him shivering with a need he didn’t understand.

“One day will surely not change the length of your journey.” The dark haired warrior cajoled, “Dine with us and let us explain what brought us to seek you. Surely your horse must rest after such a trip.

                He’d planned to leave the horse and walk but one day wouldn’t extend his journey any more than walking would. He could eat and rest before setting out in the morning, his bindings would force him if he tried to delay too long. He gave the group a shaky nod, trying not to flinch as they smiled in relief.

                They were shown to a small suite of rooms with a low table by the fire groaning with a feast laid for them. Ullr eyed the food but he wanted to clean up first. He took off his quiver and bow but couldn’t make himself leave it as he ducked into the attached bathing room. Thankfully he was left to bath alone.

                The clothes in his pack were mostly destroyed so he donned the light robes left for him once he was clean and mostly dry. No servants tried to assist him, a fact he was grateful for. He made his slow way back out carrying his weapons and old clothes. He left most of his things near the door with his saddle bags but carried his quiver and bow to a seat near the fire.

                They broke their fast in silence at first, Ullr eating hungrily as he tried to make up for the months of hard tack bread and dried meat. Slowly the others began to talk amongst themselves but the red headed woman had eyes only for him. He tried to compare her to the woman from his dreams but the memories had always been too fleeting.

“May we start our tale?” The dark haired man asked, setting his goblet down. Ullr nodded watching as he glanced at the others, “First introductions since you do not seem to know us.”

“This is Prince Thor, prince of Asgard. He fought by your side on Midgard to bring down his brother, Prince Loki, who was trying to take over that realm. At his side are the Warriors Three, Hogun, myself, Fendral and Volstagg.” He said gesturing to each in turn, “You met us for the first time in a place on Earth called New Mexico with your Shield brother, Phillip Coulson.” 

“After the battle of New York, Prince Thor returned to Asgard with his captive brother. Several months later you were asked to join him and be healed of the damage Loki had done while he held you captive. While you healed it was discovered that you were Asgardian and the lost child of Lady Sif.” He said nodding to the dark haired woman who watching him like he would be snatched away again at any moment.

“After the feast announcing your recovery as Ullr, you went missing. We thought you needed time to deal with the revelations and let you be. When you were not found the next morning the palace and grounds were searched. Weeks later Loki escaped and we started to suspect he had something to do with your disappearance.”

“A representative of the Dwarven race came and said my brother, Loki, and a man matching your description came and left their realm to areas we knew not. We have been searching for you ever since.” Thor put in subsiding with a frown when Ullr didn’t respond.

The red haired one, Natasha, pushed a stack of paper and pen towards him across the table, “In case you have questions.”

                Ullr nodded carefully and pulled the stack before him, taking up the pen. He’d written notes on occasion when prompted and been told his handwriting was atrocious but they’d be the ones having to decipher it. He gazed at the page but his mind was blank, too many of the pieces of the story both fit and grated against what he thought he knew as true. He carefully wrote out a few lines before handing the page back.

“I remember nothing before Loki. I was with the dwarves for a time and have been at Loki’s side or at his command since.” She read slowly glancing up at him with pain in her eyes, “I leave in the morning to go to my master’s side as commanded. I am bound to follow his orders and must go. Prove to me that what you say is true.”

“What proof I have of your life in Midgard is there in your home.” Natasha said slowly, glancing at the others. “If you travel to the palace we can introduce you to others you might know or summon them from Midgard.”

“The Dwarves have offered to attempt with my mother, Queen Frigga, to remove the spells that bind you to Loki.” Prince Thor offered, “They await us at the palace.”

“Do you know where your… master is located?” Natasha asked distress showing as she called Loki his master. Ullr merely pointed, the metal in his body tugging him the way he needed to go.

“That is east.” Hogun said rubbing at his chin, “Perhaps we can travel with you for a time? How do you intend to travel?” Ullr shrugged scribbled out a single word, pushing the paper at him.

“You intend to walk?” He asked blinking. Ullr just shrugged in response, he had no coin for a mount and no one here would help the Black Blade so recently after Loki had violated their realm.

“Very well, we shall travel with you when you leave.” Prince Thor said with a nod, “We have things to arrange for the journey. This suite has several rooms, pick where you would wish to sleep and we will retire.” Ullr shrugged again, glancing at the fireplace, he’d sleep once they retired. A fur by the fire might take the last of the chill from the metal in his chest.

                Several of the warriors left to deal with various issues, he heard one muttering that the horses would be left as a gift of recompense to the realm for Loki’s destruction. He absently wondered how many such gifts they’d been forced to promise as they traveled in Loki’s wake. He sat and turned things over in his mind nibbling at the fruit before him.

                After a while Lady Natasha and Sif started speaking of him. They told stories of their memories of him. Lady Sif of his birth and later their reunion, Natasha of his years with a company of warriors called Shield and the many battles they had fought together. The others returned and added their own tales until the embers burned low in the fire and everyone started to retire.

                The ladies shared a chamber while the men waited, seeming unsure which rooms to take while Ullr had not chosen. He huffed a sigh and stood draining one last goblet and scooping up a fur from a nearby bench. The men tensed in disbelief as he dropped the fur to the hearth and set his bow and quiver nearby.

“Surely you wish a bed, Ullr?” One pressed softly, stuttering to a stop when he pulled his tunic off revealing the inflamed scars and reddish gold metal that glinted in the firelight.

“Do you need a healer?” Another asked, voice shaken.

Ullr shook his head, glancing at them in confusion. He’d seen no others with the metal, maybe it was an uncommon thing in their realm, he decided with a sigh, sinking into the fur’s warmth and waiting for the men to decide their next move. Prince Thor and the others talked for a time, their voices low and rumbling with anger and sadness. Eventually they retired to their rooms except for the one called Hogun who took his rest on a chair near the door, guarding his companions and perhaps even Ullr himself. Ullr dozed, unwilling to let himself sleep deeply with so many unknowns near even if something in him said he was safe.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

#  Ch. 12

 

                Ullr woke early and bathed the next morning, pausing when he found a stack of clothing in his size with boots and newly oiled weapons harnesses waiting just inside the door. He took them with a frown not liking the charity but he had nothing else suitable for easy travel. After another hearty meal he headed to the courtyard leaving the others to their own hasty absolutions and leave taking.

                Outside Hogun and the Lady Natasha waited on him next to a single pack laden horse. Thor and his warriors came out dressed in traveling mail with weapons at their sides. The steward tried to offer Ullr some of the boar’s hide since there was a large amount but he ignored him, he wanted nothing to do with the death of such a noble creature. There was no trophy to gain in the death of such a beast.

                He shouldered his thin pack adjusting his bow and quiver, frowning when he noted the added food and clothes packed in the night. He was tempted to leave it behind but he might need it in the coming journey. He wished to leave some sort of payment but he saw a pouch of coin or gems being handed to the steward by one of the warriors, maybe it would cover his small needs as well.

                He set a steady but slow pace, the binding didn’t burn him as long as he was making progress towards his goal. Every village and town they passed through showed signs of violence and hasty rebuilding. He stayed in none of them, preferring to camp as far away from the wounded and broken while he could. Thor and his party paused to help where they could, often only Natasha or Hogun would stay with him, the others catching up once the work was done. He tried to walk extra slow on those days to give them more time to help those who needed it.

                The entire journey was full of stories by the campfire and joking arguments over what story should be shared next. Many of the tales were about his past as Clint Barton and Hawkeye, an agent of Shield, and things he no longer remembered. Lady Natasha spoke of people he could not picture and places he didn’t know perhaps hoping to jog some memory but nothing came of it except violent nightmares he could never remember on waking.

                No matter how slow his steps, eventually they had to catch up with the mass destruction only Loki seemed capable of leaving behind him. They arrived at the scene of a massive battle, shattered weapons and bodies littered the muddy ground, and bloody water filled the gullies and hollows. The skies had opened at least taking away some of the smell and stopping the endless buzzing of the flies around the dead.

                The battle must have been days ago, nothing but animal scavengers wandered among the dead. Instinct made him want to skirt the fields of destruction but the pull against his skin forced him forward into the muck. Loki must be near.

                He had no idea how far they walked, through barren fields and smoldering woods, all littered with dead. Loki waited for him pacing before a broken and burned siege engine muttering to himself. Ullr ignored the cautioning words of his companions as he stepped forward taking a knee a few feet away from his master leaving his bow with the others.

“My Blade, you’ve returned.” Loki said with a smile of delight, “We’ve so much to do. The people here are refusing my rule. We must show them the error of their ways.”

“Brother,” Thor said stepping forward, “It is time to return home. The battle is over.”

“No! This is my kingdom, not yours! I conquered it with my Blade. You have no claim to it.” Loki said storming forward and grabbing Ullr by the hair and hauling him up next to him.

                 Ullr clutched at his master to catch his balance when he was suddenly released. He glanced up at the surrounding warriors, meeting Natasha’s eyes as the metal in his skin started to heat, she held his bow in one hand. Thor and Loki continued to argue as Ullr drew an arrow, fingering the shaft. His master had spelled the metal and wood to piece any material no matter the spells protecting it.

                He tossed the arrow to Natasha and gripped at Loki, one arm wrapped around his waist and shoulders to hold him flush against his sturdy body. The arrow slammed into his master’s eye too fast to see, blood and fluid spraying his face as he staggered with the sudden limp weight in his arms.

“Brother!” Thor screamed, lunging forward to help ease his dead brother to the ground. “How could you! You’ve killed him.”

“He was mad.” Ullr croaked out, shivering as the metal burned him.

                The others watched him in confusion as he stripped to the waist not wanting to deal with even greater burns from the chain mail in his armor. He crouched shivering as the rain hitting his body began to steam, he’d helped kill his master. This was his punishment.

                Only Natasha seemed to realize the pain he was in coming forward to cradle his face against her shoulder as his skin began to burn. One of the other warrior cursed and shouted bringing his state to everyone’s attention. Ullr was past the point of caring, maybe they would kill him for harming his master and Thor’s brother, maybe the metal would finally finish him off. He’d like to rest either way, he was so very tired.


	13. Chapter 13

#  Ch. 13

 

                The return to Thor’s palace was a somber one; Odin was still in his sleep so Queen Frigga welcomed them with their sad burden. Loki’s body was placed in state in the family burial chambers. The mourning period lasted a month leaving the palace subdued and cloaked in black or silver and green to commemorate his memory.

                Ullr had been taken straight from the main courtyard to the healer’s halls where he spent most of his time the first few weeks of their return. The dwarves and Lady Frigga worked to temper the living metal that bound him but it was weeks of painful treatments before the last bindings holding him to Loki were broken. They let the metal fuse with him naturally taking away the constant pain he had never realized he was in.

                The others hoped in time that his memories would return but so far he remained as he was, a broken and scarred man with no memories before his time with Loki. The healers had healed his wounds and burns once the bindings broke but the living metal could not be removed, once placed it was part of the person’s body bound to them like an extension of their blood and bone.

                He knew little of Midgard and knew that Lady Natasha hoped he would return with her to his former home but he felt little connection there. The truth was he felt little connection anywhere. The Asgardian feared him thanks to the battles Loki had lead him into and few beyond the Prince’s friends and family would come near him. He was an outcast in this second home yet he didn’t remember his first.

                He spent most of his time with Lady Sif and Warrior Hogun forcing his body to unlearn the many lessons Loki had forced on him during his months of captivity. It was a struggle to force himself to speak or not to defer to those around him simply out of habit. His life had been based on serving his master and without that purpose he was adrift.        

                Lady Sif and Queen Frigga started helping him learn the small spells all Asgardians learned as children but it was clear that he had no head for the magical arts. The larger castings terrified him and he had several panic attacks simply trying to light a candle before he mastered the spell. He read on the history of his people and their interactions with those on Earth and the other realms trying to learn about a people he no longer remembered.

                He trained with the Warriors Three and others to hone his body and skills on the training grounds but there wasn’t much that needed work. He’d pushed his body to the breaking point for Loki and now his endurance and stamina would drive even seasoned warriors to surrender in the face of his unrelenting pursuit. He tried to learn new skills from the other warriors but few were willing to teach what they saw as an outsider. He seemed to permanently be on the outside, not matter where he was.

                Relearning the skills to survive on Earth seemed an insurmountable task as Natasha described a normal day with Shield. He didn’t remember the technology or weapons even though they sat comfortably in his hand and he wielded them with little prompting. He couldn’t imagine living as she described considering all he remembered was a few month of nonstop pain and war.

                It felt like both worlds were out of his reach, leaving him as a permanent outsider, watching as everyone went on with their lives while he was quietly drowning. He didn’t feel like he could stay in Asgard watching as the damage caused by his and Loki’s hands were slowly repaired yet Midgard did not feel like home. It was leaving one foreign place for another with nothing but a vague promise of comfort and safety, he wasn’t sure he could trust that promise with how he’d been broken and used.

“Have you made your decision to stay or go?” Hogun asked after an afternoon of sword practice with Ullr. They were sitting watching the sunset with everyone else having already left to clean up before dinner.

“Neither feels like a home.” Ullr said voice low as he forced the words out. It was slowly getting easier to speak his mind but he still sometimes found himself mute and waiting on the pain to strike him.

“You don’t remember Midgard, correct?” Hogun said watching the other man as the sky before them shifted from gold to red and burning orange. Ullr nodded, huffing in annoyance when the man simply raised an eyebrow, waiting until he managed a verbal response.

“Then how can you say it feels not like home? You have not seen it yet. Perhaps it is the home you are looking for and you just have to visit it? If not you are always welcome here.” He offered turning back to the sky.

                Ullr turned back to watch as the Asgardian sun sank lower gilding the clouds around it in golden light. He wasn’t sure things were as simple as Hogun insisted they were. Even Lady Natasha had said that many at Shield no longer trusted him after his first encounter with Loki during the Battle of New York. Now that it had happened yet again would turn them from him with certainty.

                She swore that he had a home and friends to return to with the Avengers but he would be returning to a new palace full of strangers. He would have to relearn customs and try to meet new expectations that his former self would have done with ease. Would he even like the same things he’d enjoyed before? Perhaps Hogun was at least partially right, Ullr thought with a small smile. The only way he’d find out is to go.

 

***

               

                Natasha and Ullr said their goodbyes to Sif, Thor, and the others who would be remaining on Asgard to assist with rebuilding the damage Loki had wrought. The Bifrost deposited them on top of a large building, the swirling lights giving way to reveal three men waiting for them to one side. He assumed these were the rest of the Avengers he’d been told about.

“Welcome back, Legolas!” One of the men called out mouth running almost too fast for Ullr to follow and hands moving in wide gestures as he approached.

“Captain Downer has already vetoed a welcome back party but I arranged for all your favorite take out at least.” He said clapping him on the shoulder and wandering away nonplused still talking when it made Ullr flinch, clearly expecting them to follow.

“That’s Tony Stark,” The other dark haired man said with a sigh as he glanced at the retreating man, “I’m Bruce Banner and this is Steve Rogers. You’ll have to forgive Tony, he’s never been one for personal space.”

“It’s fine.” Ullr managed to choke out forcing his feet to move when Natasha urged him after the others with a gentle hand at his back.

“Natasha sent a message explaining the situation, we actually have a new resident since you both left for Asgard. He’s still adjusting to having his memories returned as well.” Steve said nodding to a man standing to one side when they entered the house, “Bucky, come meet Clint.”

“Actually he prefers to go by Ullr right now.” Natasha put in, squeezing his shoulder and moving into the kitchen. The man came over and shook his hand before retreating back to his spot on the far wall.

“Is losing memories common?” Ullr asked softly, frowning as Natasha handed him a plate full of foods he didn’t recognize.

“Not exactly, it just seems to be a tactic our enemies prefer.” Steve said with a frown, giving Bucky an over filled plate and taking a seat on the floor near him with his own.

“Don’t forget to introduce him to J-man as well.” Tony said pouring himself a drink and disappearing through a pair of silver doors.

“It is a pleasure to meet you again, Agent Barton.” A voice intoned from somewhere over his head. Ullr gave a vague nod, Natasha had tried to explain about the machine that lived in the tower assisting with day to day life but he was too overwhelmed to really process it in action at the moment.

“Thank you, Jarvis.” She said with a sigh guiding Ullr to a table and chair where he could eat. “I think Ullr’s a bit overstimulated at the moment. I’m sure he’ll want to talk to everyone later.”

“Eat.” She reminded him, pushing a strangely fizzing drink in his direction and gesturing to each item on his plate. “Tony ordered Chinese Takeout for everyone. I put a bit of your favorites on the plate for you, Sweet and Sour Pork, Sesame Chicken, and fried rice with orange soda to drink.”

                He nodded again and stabbed a bit of something with his fork. It was meat in a sweet sauce, in fact most of the meal was sweet in some way. He ate most of the plate under her watchful eyes but he wasn’t sure if he enjoyed it or not. It was nothing like the food he’d eaten on Asgard, which tended toward roast meat and heavy stews.

                The rest of the group talked quietly amongst themselves. Ullr tried to keep up but they were talking about things he didn’t remember or events he hadn’t been present for and after a while he gave up and concentrated on eating. Afterwards he was shown to his rooms, taking the elevator that he’d learned about before the trip. He wasn’t sure he liked that either.

                The rooms looked like they belonged to someone else. Bright colors on the pillows and sheets reminded him of his rooms in the palace but the personal items scattered around meant nothing to him.

“Will you be alright alone tonight or do you want me to stay?” Natasha asked once she’d given him a quick tour.

“I’ll be fine.” He said glancing at her tired face, “Thank you.”

“If you need anything ask Jarvis, he’s always monitoring the floors and can get me if you need.”

“Yes,” he murmured giving her a small grin, she needed to rest and watching over him wouldn’t get her the respite she needed.

“Sleep well.” She said with a sad smile seeming to see through his attempts to fool her but going along with it anyway.

                He wandered the rooms peeking at the objects scattered about and poking in cabinets and drawers until he knew where most of the things were located. He seemed to like the same colors at least, most of his clothes were still black or the rich purples and reds he’d worn at the palace. He took a shower in the tiled rooms and changed into a pair of soft looking pants.

                Barefoot and chested he wandered through the rooms, looking at the few pictures scattered about and pulling down a few books to peruse. He’d enjoyed his studies with Queen Frigga and Lady Sif, maybe he could do the same for Midgard.  No Earth, he reminded himself with a sigh.

“Is there something you need, Agent Barton?” the voice in the walls asked, making him jump.

“Books on history?” He asked hesitantly, glancing at the scattered volumes.

“I’m afraid there are no historical volumes on your floor. If you wish I can project the needed information. Are you looking for a certain period of time?”

“No,” He said with a frown taking the books he’d found to the unlit hearth.  “I just, I need to understand,”

“I can give you a general history of the world, your current area, or of the people you’ve recently met if you wish.” Jarvis offered watching as Ullr rubbed at the metal circling one wrist with a frown.

“Lady Natasha told me about the team but,” Ullr trailed off, unsure of where he should start, there was just too much he needed to learn.

“Is there a specific item or time period you wish to learn about?”

“I want to understand, I don’t remember this.” Ullr said miserably glancing around the rooms and tugging at his hair in distress.

“I have worked with the Captain on relearning the main historical and cultural items he missed in his 70 years of hibernation. Perhaps learning similar high points from the period you would have been alive on Earth would help?” Ullr shrugged but settled into read from the tablet Jarvis directed him to.

 “Would you like me to turn on the fire for you, Agent Barton?”

“Turn it on?” He asked, flinching as the fire roared to life without a hand touching it.

“Magic?” he asked having seen Loki do things similar.

“No, the fireplace is mechanical in a way. I will add the subject to your reader.” Jarvis replied, “If you wish I can include a general guide on the basic technology in the tower as well since it tends to be more advanced than you would see in a normal household in the United States.”

“Yes, thank you.” Ullr said with a sigh, yet another area he needed to relearn.

“I apologies if this is discourteous but the rest of the tower has retired for the night. I believe Miss Romanov would be concerned if you were unable to sleep. Is there anything I can do to assist you in that endeavor?”

                Ullr took a minute to process that but he carefully turned off the tablet and carried it with him to the bedroom giving a nod to Jarvis. Lady Natasha worried about him too much as it was, if retiring to bed before he was truly tired took some of that concern away he would do what he could. He eyed the bed with a sigh, setting the tablet down on a small table next to the headboard.

                He hadn’t been allowed to sleep in beds while he was with Loki. He’d used a healing bed while he was staying in the palace but still spent most of his nights by the fire if he was given a choice. He pressed at the mattress and took a seat but at least this bed was firm, harder than the one’s he’d used in Asgard. He’d disliked how he sank into the material, struggling to force himself out of the entrapping material each morning.

                He curled around a pillow for a few hours before giving up and going back to the other room and dozing for a while on the rug before the fire. He gave up some time before sunrise and went back to reading until Natasha came to collect him for breakfast. They ate with Steve and Bucky mostly in silence, neither looked like they had had a good night’s rest either.

“After everyone’s dress I was wondering if Ullr wanted to join Bucky and me. We were going to head to a few museums today in town.” Ullr shrugged when Natasha glanced at him. He didn’t care what they did for the day.

“Phil’s coming in tomorrow to meet Ullr but I didn’t have any real plans for the day.”

                Ullr followed Natasha back to his rooms and let her pick out what he’d be wearing. He was surprised that she let him hide a few small knives but he knew she carried more than that in her own outfit. He tucked the tablet into a small carry all along with a notebook in case he thought of a question he wanted to look up later.

                Hours later he trailed behind the others trying to sort things out in his head. He vaguely remembered flying but not driving a car. The press of people and the constant movement around him was unnerving.  The others were arguing what they should get for dinner but he would eat whatever they put in front on him. He’d filled his notebook with random notes and questions whenever they took a few minutes to pause at some item in the museums and he filled a few more pages during dinner.

                He head was a solid ache that left him rubbing at his temples during the movie everyone had watched after the meal. He ignored the screen trying to match what he’d seem with his fragmented memories. He’d recognized several buildings from his memories so he must have spent time in New York but he couldn’t have said if he lived here or not.

 

***

               

                Ullr snapped awake with a gasp, fighting his way off the too big bed and against the nearest wall. Apparently remembering things meant that he was also remembering the torture he’d been through at Loki’s hands. He huddled and fought to stop shaking, blinking in surprise when the lights slowly came up to dimly illuminate the room around him.

“Agent Barton, do you require assistance?” Jarvis asked softly continuing to rattle off seemingly random things when he didn’t respond, “You are currently at the Avengers tower on your floor. The temperature is thirty degrees Fahrenheit and it is three twenty eight in the morning. Captain Rogers and Mister Barnes are on their way to your floor.”

“Alright in there, Clint?” Steve asked slowly coming through the door with Bucky trailing behind him hesitantly and standing to one side of the door.               

“Alright, I’m going to stay over here.” He said easily when Ullr flinched as his approach. “Natasha took the jet to go pick up Coulson, they should be back in a few hours.”

                Steve started talking of random things, how he met Coulson, the battle they had fought together. He spoke of Clint’s prowess with any projectile weapon and his love of the bow. Ullr slowly conquered his breathing as his body finally started to relax and stop shaking like it might come apart at the seams.

“Are you hungry?” Steve asked pausing in his stories. Ullr shook his head, no the last thing he wanted to do was eat.

“Would you be able to try sleeping again?” He asked getting another violent refusal. “Then we can hit the gym, go for a swim or run, or watch a movie. Any of that sound good?”

Ullr forced himself up and dug out the gym clothes that Natasha had pointed out. He ignored the gasp his starting to change drew from the Captain. Natasha had tried to explain the concept of body shame and modesty but he couldn’t seem to apply it to himself.

“Gym or run?” Steve prompted once he was changed.

“Run.”

“Alright, let us go get changed and we’ll meet you on the common floor?”

                Ullr nodded and followed them to the elevator carrying his tennis shoes and socks. Natasha had also tried to explain why generally you needed to wear shoes in the tower but it made no sense. You were inside, you didn’t need shoes even if you weren’t technically on your personal floor. The social niceties of Earth kept leaving him confused while Natasha watched him fumble with a look of fond amusement; apparently he’d always been bad at it.


	14. Chapter 14

#  Ch. 14

 

                The three of them ran through the dark streets of New York, Steve leading the way. They cut through alleys and down dark tree lined paths winding through parks. He was happy to see that they kept a fast pace, not trying to slow for his shorter stride; even on Asgard he’d been teased for his height and been more than willing to show them just how fast he could put them in the dirt when challenged.

                Natasha and Coulson were waiting for them when they stepped off the elevator, mud splattered and sweaty. She smiled slightly to see him in the group but he eased away once they piled out. Steve and Bucky had bantered back and forth most of the run leaving Ullr feeling like he was interrupting a well-worn argument just by being present.

“Let me introduce you, Ullr.” Natasha said standing and taking his hand to bring him over to the older gentleman in the suit he’d seen so often in his dreams. “Agent Phil Coulson, this is Ullr.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Phil said with a small smile and nod, the smile fading as Ullr examined him with a frown.

“I remember you.” Ullr said slowly pulling away from Natasha and fidgeting with the cuffs of his long sleeved shirt.

“That’s a good thing surely?” The man offered gesturing for Ullr to take a seat.

“It’s all flashes, broken moments that don’t mean anything.” He said glancing at the couch and taking a seat of the floor, he didn’t want to get the material dirty.

“If you like you could tell me a few and Natasha and I can tell you about when they happened perhaps?” He offered leaning back in his seat and seeming to relax much like Natasha did, all benign looks while the steel beneath promised pain.

“I’m in a dessert and you’re bleeding.” Ullr said hesitantly, not sure of how much detail he was supposed to give.

“There are a few possibilities for that one.” Phil said easily, he told each story easily seeming to wait for Ullr to interrupt but the words didn’t trigger any extra memories or intuition.

“We’re on a machine, all silver walls and metal railings. You turn back and smile.” He said with a shrug, knowing it could have been any of a dozen times.

“Sounds like the Helicarrier but it’s hard to say without more detail.” Natasha offered. “Do you remember times with me?”

“Running after you, glimpses of red hair turning a corner. Watching you fight from above.” He offered with a shrug.

“You do that often enough,” She said with a small grin.

                They settle in trading old stories and trying to see what he remembered if anything of the fights and battles they’d had in ten years of working for Shield. Eventually the others joined them and they started pulling up images, showing him faces in hopes of triggering some reaction.  He sat through it as best he could fidgeting with his shirt and trying to drag forward something, anything. They were almost ready to give up for lunch when a photo made him recoil, that face he knew.

“Who?” he asked gesturing to a faded photo hovering to one side and trying to not read into the look Natasha gave him.

“Your older brother, Charles Bernard Barton, called Barney. You grew up together and when your parents died he ran away with you to the circus.”

“Circus?” he asked blankly not recognizing the word.

“Different kinds of traveling shows meant to entertain groups with animals and unusual acts of trickery or bravery; you learned the sword and bow there.”

“He’s dead?” Ullr asked hesitantly, mind full of a broken body laying at his feet.

“Yes, he died several years ago.” Phil said with a sad look, Ullr didn’t bother asking if he’d been the one to put him there, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“If you like we can go to Coney Island tomorrow?” Steve offered, “They have a small circus and amusement park.”

                Ullr nodded agreement but curled in on himself, hands worrying at his cuffs. The others offered stories of their visits to different circuses and Natasha shared a few of the stories she’d heard from him about his years spent under the big top. Ullr listened with a frown; his memories of that time were a blur of color, shouting, and pain. Somehow he didn’t think the circus had been a happy place no matter the light hearted stories everyone seemed to have.

“Are the sleeves bothering you?” Phil asked softly gesturing to where his fingers had already frayed and torn the thin material.

“Yes,” Ullr said with a shrug, he’d worn it since most people on Earth wouldn’t understand the metal under his skin, same as Bucky’s metal arm.

“You never liked wearing sleeves. Most of your uniforms had the sleeves torn off as soon as you started a mission, drove the supply personnel crazy. Eventually we changed your armor to not have sleeves. You can take it off if it’s bothering you, none of us will mind.”

                Ullr glanced at the others but they had pulled up a menu of some sort and were ordering something for lunch. He tugged the shirt off setting it to the side and glancing up at the older man. He didn’t show any reaction that he could see, instead asking for a different pizza for himself, but somehow Ullr knew the man was shocked at his scars and saddened.

“Whoa, do we need to explain acceptable usage of pants in the tower again?” Tony asked returning with a tumbler of something and a tablet that he thrust at Coulson.

“I’ve already explained, Stark.” Natasha said collecting the shirt and tossing it into the trash while shooting Tony a death glare, “He understands about personal space and modesty better than you do. He should be allowed to be comfortable when it’s just us.”

“It doesn’t hurt at all does it?” Bruce asked eyeing the lines of reddish copper that branched like lightning along his chest and back, wrapping his upper arms and legs in thin lines.

“Not now.” Ullr said with a shrug brushing a finger along the band that wrapped one wrist.

“No pinching or issues with it not bending enough?” Bruce pressed, making Ullr sigh and offer one arm to the man letting him feel the edge of where skin changed to metal. “It’s warm, like it’s all just a continuation of your skin.”

“It is now.” He said with a sigh, “The dwarves reworked it to mesh with my body when we returned.”

“And before?”

“It was used as punishment by Loki.” Ullr said flatly pulling his wrist out of the man’s grip.

“How exactly would metal be used as a punishment?” Steve asked glancing between Ullr and Bucky.

“The metal was heated.” He said standing and taking the elevator back to his room before the others could stop him.

                He had about an hour to himself to gather his scattered thoughts before Phil and Natasha arrived bringing several boxes of Pizza with them. They didn’t mention his retreat, instead starting some old movie and sharing out drinks and food. Eventually Natasha left to get some sleep on her own floor and Phil took the spare bedroom on Ullr’s.

“You know Bruce didn’t mean to upset you.” Phil said hesitating in the hallway, “As a doctor, a healer, he worries about anyone in the team when they might be injured or in pain.”

“I know that,” Ullr said with a nod, trying to get his words in order, “I didn’t mean to be bothered by it but everything is so…”

“Don’t do that,” Phil said pulling Ullr’s hand down from where it was clenched in his short hair, “Come on, come sit and talk to me for a while.”

 

***

                Ullr eased away from the sleeping man, wincing as his breath shifted, knowing he’d woken him. He needed to think and that meant height. He made his way to the roof slowly, taking his time, waiting for someone to prevent this but no one came. He ignored the sharp stones on his bare feet and the biting wind as he made his way to the edge and took a seat. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting watching the slow lightening of the sky when the door opened behind him and a figure slowly came to join him on his perch. He was surprised to see it wasn’t Phil or Natasha.

“I can leave if you wish.” He said slowly eyeing the soldier sitting next to him.

“It’s fine,” Bucky shrugged, “I come out here sometimes to clear my head. I like the lack of sightlines, we’re too high to even worry about stray shots unless their coming from a plane.”

“It is rather like being untouchable.” Ullr agreed with a sigh.

“They said you were controlled while on Asgard, your memories taken.” Bucky said, his flesh hand fiddling with the fingers of his metal one.

“Yes.” Ullr agreed, forcing his own hands to still where he’d been rubbing the thin band of metal around one wrist, a permanent shackle.

“Are you getting them back at all?” he asked his eyes on the horizon that was ever so slightly shading to red.

“Some, they’re fragmented and make little sense.” Ullr said with a huff tired of having to explain.

“Sounds like mine. I remember the past better than I do the last seventy years I spent in and out of the ice.”

“I remember Loki and the trials he put me through, the rest is gone.” Ullr said with a sigh, “Everyone here is hoping for their friend to return but I do not remember them as they remember me.”

“Yeah, Steve was like that at first. You have to make new memories with them, do things together. Me and Steve go run or go to ball games since that’s what I remember best about our past together. What about you?”

“I remember war, torture, and pain. There is not much else. I strived to control and keep entertained a mad man who sought to take over an empire. I was but a plaything to him. I have few good memories left to me.”

“Then maybe you need to make some.” Bucky said with a nod, “What do you like to do?”

“I don’t know any more.” Ullr said with a shrug, “I don’t even know what I should be called.”

“Then let’s go try something, have you had bagels yet?” he asked standing and stretching his back.

“No,” Ullr said slowly letting the other man pull him up by one wrist. “It’s a kind of food?”

“Yeah, generally eaten at breakfast;” Bucky said with a snort, “It’s six am, close enough to morning to count probably.”

“Bagels will help?”

“Maybe, maybe not;” Bucky said with a shrug leading the other man to the elevator. “If we can figure out what you liked before, sometimes it triggers memories, at least for me. Plus bagels are a New York thing; you’ve got to have them if you’re living here.”

“I’ve only been in New York while I was an agent of Shield, before that I travelled widely but I do not remember it.”

“Then you’ll just have to try more foods.” Bucky said with a shrug, “What do you mean about not knowing your name? I know Steve calls you Clint but I thought your name is Ullr?”

“It is a long story.”

“We have a few hours before anyone else gets up. We can order some food and hang out if you like?” Bucky offered leading the way to the common level kitchen.

“I am tired of having to explain things.” Ullr said with a sigh, taking a seat at the high bar and resting his head on his arms.

“Well, you only have to tell me once but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Bucky offered with a slight smile, “Jarvis, where can we get bagels this early?”

 


	15. Chapter 15

#  Ch. 15

 

                The battle was dragging on yet the others seemed reluctant to let Ullr step forward into the fray. He’d faced worse odds with Loki and his madness yet they continued to keep him on his high perch picking off the stragglers he could reach, his line of fire didn’t include the main target and his protectors and no matter how he asked he was ordered to keep his current perch.

                Nothing would keep him still when Natasha disappeared beneath a group of fighters. The others were caught in their own battles and he ignored Phil in his ear advising him to stay. The com was tossed aside as he repelled down the face of the building at reckless speeds. Natasha had been the one to save him from Loki, not just once but twice. Memories battered at him, he couldn’t leave her unprotected.

                He drew the swords he rarely used and cut a bloody swath through the rabble until he reached her side. He handed her one blade while supporting her weight, one arm holding her up. She was injured and limp against him but determined to keep fighting.

                He found a defensible corner for her to stand in. Ignoring her protests he gave her the other sword and drew his black bow, this was stopping now. He stepped out into the battle ignoring the other fighters as he lined up his shot. Steve was fighting with the leader, shield ringing as he blocked blow after blow. Breathe, draw, release.

                He didn’t stay to watch the body fall. He killed the few followers who tried to stop his progress back to Natasha’s side. She watched him with dark eyes as he gathered her to him and started back to the tower. One of Shield’s medical staff got to them before they arrived so he let them treat her while he watched on, guarding her back until they were truly safe.

“You didn’t have to kill him.” Steve snapped striding up face livid with anger. “We needed the information he had. Why did you leave your post?”

“He injured most of the team and Natasha needed assistance. I’ve fought worse odds then this alone.” Ullr said with a shrug, his head hurt with a steady throb leaving his muscles tense and aching.

“We had a plan, one that you threw away!”

“You refused to let me fight on the ground; I did what I could before her injury forced my hand.”

“You’ve always been our eyes on high, you’re human, and you can’t take on the super powered fighters.”

“I may have been human before but now I’m Asgardian.”

“You’re still human.”

“I was never human.” Ullr said rubbing at one temple, “I was born on Asgard. I have killed gods and destroyed armies single handedly. You are limiting my ability to assist you in battle.”

“Are you alright?” Natasha asked limping over and touching his shoulder.

“Fine.” He said waving her off, he’d worked through worse pain.

“What hurts, were you injured?” she pressed, throwing a glare at Steve as she pushed Ullr towards the medic.

“I’m not injured.” He said stiffly trying to gently pull away.

“We’re not done! Hawkeye would never have abandoned his post like that!” Steve snapped.

“What you don’t seem to comprehend is that I am not Hawkeye!” Ullr said turning back to face the super solder. “i don’t remember anything before Asgard! If he was such a coward as to abandon his friends and fellow warriors in times of need then I do not wish to be like him.”

“Clint,” Natasha said clutching at him a hair tighter.

“I’m not Clint, I’m Ullr.” He snapped pulling away and trying to ignore the way it made her stagger for an instant, “I’m going back to the tower. I won’t discuss this further.”

“He’s wrong you know.” Phil said joining Ullr’s march back to the tower with an even stride after he’d been stomping along for several minutes. “You never left a team mate behind on a mission and often ignored commands if it meant that you could save a life.”

“Then why does he expect it of me?”

“We’ve lost you twice now to enemies.” Phil said his eyes on the slowly nearing tower, “Steve lost both you and Barnes to someone who tampered with your memories, twisting friendships and making you different people then we remember. He spent months fighting with his best friend trying to kill him before we got Barnes back.”

“Barnes is not in the same situation as I am.”

“I agree, Barnes remembers his past mostly, not the last seventy years he was controlled by Hydra. You remember your time in captivity with Loki but not the years before it when you were our friend and partner.”

“You don’t blame me like the others do.”

“They don’t blame you,” Phil said with a sad smile, “they simply want their friend back.”

“I don’t think I can be what they need of me.”

“You don’t have to be.” Phil said with a sigh as they entered the tower, he waved the guard away and hit the call button for the elevator. “We just want you to be happy, if you need to do that as Ullr, then that is what you have to do.”

“The memories I have of many things do not match the way you speak of him.”

“How so?” Phil asked hitting the button for Clint’s floor once they were both in the elevator.

“He wasn’t happy at the circus, it was painful and lonely.”

“Yes, he was hurt often and lived a hard life but there were still moments he enjoyed talking about to those he trusted.”

“Like what?”

“He enjoyed working with the animals and the circus was where he learned archery, that was main source of both comfort and pain since his mentor was very harsh on him.”

“He wasn’t allowed to miss.”

“No he wasn’t.” Phil said with a sigh leading Ullr to the living room and taking a seat on the couch, Ullr slowly took the armchair next to him. “Clint was abandoned or hurt by everyone he trusted and had closed himself off by the time he came to Shield. He desperately wanted to help people but had been on the wrong side of the law for too long to trust us. It took years for him to speak openly with me and Natasha.”

“We are alike in that, I know nothing but Loki who lied and twisted every order into pain or punishment, even his rewards.”

“Yet, even with his past Clint only wanted to save lives, to keep others from the pain he went through. I think you are the same.”

“I did what I could to temper Loki’s madness, to keep the blade from those who were innocent of his wrath.”

“That is what you’ve always done.” Phil said with a nod, “You would throw yourself off buildings without a way to break your fall or put yourself in the path of a bullet without a second thought it meant saving someone else’s life. You always saw others as having more worth then yourself for some reason. We argued about it often whenever you were laid up in medical after your latest bout of heroics.”

“And my actions today?”

“I’d expect no less from you. You did what was needed and protected a team mate while they were down. Once they were safe you removed the main threat in the mission before getting them medical care. I can find no fault in the execution of your plan however telling someone what you were going to do would have helped.”

“I’m used to working alone.” Ullr pointed out starting to strip off his arm guard and the weapons he was wearing.

“I realize that, you were much the same when you first came to us after working as a mercenary for several years.” Phil said with a small smile, “I’ll tell you the same thing I told you then, Shield is here as your back up. We are here to help you complete your missions and provide assistance when things go wrong like they did today. You have to trust us to do our jobs so that you can do yours to the best of your abilities.”

“I don’t know you.” Ullr said with a helpless shrug as he started checking over his bow and quiver, the arrows were different than he was used to but seemed to work just as well.

“That is something we will have to work on then. How did your equipment hold up, are there any changes you would like?” Phil asked standing and moving into the kitchen to get drinks.

“I would like to craft some new arrows. The ones for my black bow were longer and it does not work as well with the ones I used today.”

“I haven’t seen you practicing with the black bow before this.” Phil said handing Ullr a beer and returning to his seat to sip at his own bottle.

“Loki gifted it to me; it’s partly why I became known as his Black Blade.”

“Why did you use it today?”

“It’s what I know best, I did not want to miss when it might mean another was injured.”

“Steve was right next to the man you shot.”

“Yes, they were grappling.” Ullr said with a nod, taking a drink before he went back to carefully unstringing the compound bow he’d used for most of the battle.

“Could you have made that shot from your original perch?”

“No, I couldn’t see the main group from where I was. It’s why I asked to move to a better position but the Captain refused.”

“He wanted you to stay safe,” Phil said mildly, “We only had you return to us a few weeks ago now.”

“You thought I wasn’t fit to return to battle?”

“No, but this was your first battle back with us. We weren’t sure how you would react or if you needed more time to adjust to our way of fighting.”

“I see.”

“You’ve been adjusting and learning so much in the last few weeks that we didn’t want to throw you into a battle unless you were needed.”

“I was needed for this battle, I should have been on the ground from the beginning or been allowed to move.”

“Yes, you should have been allowed to change locations but we do depend on your eye sight when it comes to the battle. Before you often spotted shifts in the fighting, traps, or reinforcements before our equipment could, we hoped you would continue to do so.”

“You said before I had to get used to fighting with others,” Ullr said slowly, “How was this changed?”

“We ran small missions with the team, got you used to having a voice in your ear and reinforcements that could be called in if needed. We can do the same in the next few weeks if you like.”

“It may help.”

“I’ll arrange it with the others. I’d also like you to sit in on some of the planning sessions that Steve and Natasha run for upcoming missions.”

                They spent the rest of the evening talking of various things avoiding their shared past and instead sticking to questions and things going on in the world at that moment. Phil spent the night in Ullr’s spare room and taught him to make pancakes the next morning to Natasha’s amusement. She was wearing a sling and a boot on one ankle but wasn’t otherwise injured making something in Ullr relax at the sound of her soft laughter.


	16. Chapter 16

#  Ch. 16

 

“I have an offer I’d like to make but I want you to take a while to think about it. You still have several weeks of missions planned out, solo missions for Shield and a few with Natasha and Steve. I’d like you to hold the final decision until after you get back.” Phil said gesturing for Ullr to take a seat once the office door closed behind him.

“You think the decision would affect those missions?” Ullr asked settling into the hard chair with a frown.

“I think it would affect the rest of the team if they find out your decision and it might affect how they perform.” Phil said with a sigh, “You’ve proven both before and after Loki that you’re able to work at top efficiency even while emotionally affected.”

“Alright, I won’t discuss the offer until you ask for my decision.”

“Thank you.” Phil said with a sigh, “Most handlers, most friends would not offer something like this but I’ve known you for most of my career with Shield. “

“You think I’ve changed?”

“If anything I would say you’ve regressed.” Phil said handing over a thick folder of paperwork, “This is your full file intake file from Shield including your intake forms and my notes. Rereading the notes, I was struck with how much you currently remind me of your younger self.”

“What are you proposing?”

“I’d like to try and slow reintegrate you with both Shield and the team over several years. You would work various solo and team driven missions while continuing your Shield training like you are a new hire.” He said handing over a second thinner file.

“This would take me away from the tower.”

“For weeks and possibly months at a time,” Phil agreed, “I think you need the time to relearn yourself as well as the people around you. It took nearly two years of missions before you truly trusted me to have your back. I’m guessing it might take as long if not longer for that to happen again.”

“How long to I have to think on this?”

“You have eight weeks of missions planned out. After the final debrief you will be free to decide if you want to stay with Shield, return to Asgard, or stay as things are now with the team.”

“You would allow me to return?”

“It was clear that you had friends there, Hogun seemed rather take with you.” Phil said with a slight blush.

“We spoke before I left and he agreed I needed to learn to be comfortable in my skin before we attempted anything further than friends.” Ullr said with his own blush, “He is content to wait until I’m able to return to hear my decision.”

“He would be willing to wait years?”

“You forget that I’m now Asgardian. What are ten years or more to someone who lives for hundreds?” Ullr said with a small smile, “We will see each other in time and I am finding I miss his quiet humor. Perhaps we will find our way together when I return but for now no one holds me to any one place.”

“I’m glad there is someone waiting for you then.” Phil said with a nod turning back to the papers on his desk, “I have a few more manuals for you to review and the range would like assistance with reviewing several new weapons added to the arsenal when you have spare time.”

“I’ll go check with the Range Officer after our meeting.” Ullr said with a nod taking the two books and a stack of three ring binders.

“How has the training been going with the team?” Phil asked sitting back and watching the archer set the books on the floor.

“Has that not been evident?” Ullr asked with a sigh slouching in his chair. “The Captain no longer seems to trust my judgement, any suggestions I make are ignored until another puts them forth.”

“Rogers has always had an idealized view of war and battle. He’s seen how brutal the front lines can be and strives to avoid that violence whenever able.”

“He is putting others in danger by refusing to acknowledge that some deserve a quick death before they can hurt even more innocents.”

“Frankly, I agree with you but his morals are what kept his troops going during the war, he’s learned to rely on them and I doubt either of us is going to get him to bend far on the issue. Steve’s fault is that he see’s everyone as having some redeemable quality, no matter how dark their hearts seem.”

“Even Loki?”

“You would have to ask him but I’m sure he could find something. He was after all a prince and the adopted brother of Thor no matter the circumstance of his adoption.”

“A position he was given through adoption, not one he earned.”

“He was a known warrior and assisted in many battles for the realm. He’d fought faithfully for Asgard for centuries of our time before he discovered the truth of his birth parents. I believe that knowledge is what finally led to his madness.”

“Why was he not condemned when he was caught the first time? He attacked two worlds!”

“He was given to Asgard for punishment,” Phil said his face still bland and tone mild, “I can only assume he was left in prison and not executed because of his previous years of assistance to the realm.”

“He was their son and they could not order his death.”

“Perhaps,” Phil said with a nod, “They may have also been hoping to cure his madness in time.”

“He saw everything done as a way to hurt or humiliate him in the end; nothing satisfied his anger and blood lust. He died still making demands of Thor and I, demanding the Kingdom he’d been denied.”

“He was never fit for rule and Odin knew it.” Phil said, “Even Thor wasn’t ready before his exile, it took Jane hitting him with a car before he realized not everything or everyone would bow to him and give him his way unconditionally.”

“Perhaps Loki needed the same lesson.”

“If so, then it’s a lesson he missed.” Phil said with a sigh, “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Reading?” Ullr said with a shrug gesturing to the books stacked to one side.

“Would you be willing to go out with me? I have something I’d like to show you.”

“Alright, when would you want to meet?”

“If you don’t have plans I can meet you here or at the range once I wrap things up, say around six?”

“The range would probably be best, I tend to lose track of time while working with the Range Officer.” He said making Phil snort.

“You’ve always lost track of time on the range. I’ll come collect you; we’ll be heading straight to the garage.”

“I’ll grab a bag from my room then. Will I need anything else?”

“No, I’ll bring you back to the tower later tonight or you can use my spare room if you want.”

“I’ll pack some clothes just in case.” Ullr said with a nod, gathering up everything and waving to Phil as he left.

                He meant to drop everything off in his room on base before heading out but something made him start reviewing the new job proposal that Phil had given him. He’d be given an entirely new identity while he worked with Shield, only returning to Ullr or Clint when he was working with the team. He’d use different weapons, armor, and limit his bow work to team missions or if Shield needed him as Hawkeye.

                A sketch of his new uniform and code name drew his eye. Black with thin gold accents that could easily be removed if stealth was needed. A hooded mask completely hid his identity while a mouth piece could be used as needed to alter his voice. It was an offer of complete anonymity.  

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my blog for more of my writing at  
> www.blueinkasides.wordpress.com  
> www.offthemarkandroaming.wordpress.com
> 
> Check out my Amazon Author page:  
> http://www.amazon.com/Amelia-Sides/e/B00GB070BA/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1


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